


The Journals of Karkat Vantas, Nerevarine

by Slyjinks



Series: Scrollstuck [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Homestuck
Genre: Diary/Journal, Dunmer!Karkat, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Illustrated, Non-Graphic Violence, Scrollstuck, Swearing, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 19,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slyjinks/pseuds/Slyjinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the waning years of the Third Era, when Dagoth Ur still sat plotting within Red Mountain and the blighted ash still fell across the island of Vvardenfell, a prisoner born of a certain sign to uncertain parents was transported without explanation from the Imperial City to the province of Morrowind.  </p><p>His name was Karkat Vantas, and this is his tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Fucking Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> How this began:  
> Me: *gets the urge to play through an Elder Scrolls game as Karkat. Chooses the one where you play a prophesied messiah figure in an Ancestor-obsessed culture.*  
> Friend: Oh, man, that is perfect.  
> Friend: Dark Elf, natch?  
> Me: Of course. 
> 
> If you've played Morrowind, you know the plot of this. This is just that plot as viewed from a Dunmer Karkat's perspective. He won't always be accurate in trying to figure things out, but then, Elder Scrolls Lore is inherently self-contradictory. In Tamriel, the reliable narrator does not exist, and that's part of the charm of the setting. On top of that, I occasionally take a few liberties myself and employ "head-lore". Game-play related notes that I think are interesting or amusing will be included at the end of some chapters. 
> 
> These days, I typically run through Elder Scroll games by playing an imported version of some fictional character I'm fond of. Sometimes I start the game and then pick the character, sometimes I pick the character and then choose the game. This time I went the second route. 
> 
> I've been playing Elder Scrolls since Daggerfall, and I adore the setting and its extensive lore. That said, no, I haven't played Skyrim yet. I tend to wait until Bethesda puts out an "all DLC included" version (and even then, I think I may need to get a better computer before tackling Skyrim).

_Introduction: Some years after the start of the Fourth Era, an expedition into ruined Vvardenfell uncovered a chest filled with a curious collection of "journals". These journals were written in the margins and empty spaces of texts chosen seemingly at random, and often notes and other pieces of paper were appropriated for the same purpose and then simply folded and inserted into one or the other of the texts. Occasionally, a note is added relating to the material of the original text itself, but that is rare. Most often, there appears no connection._

_The first text to be appropriated for use as a journal is a copy of[The Firmament](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:The_Firmament) by Ffoulke, although the back of a curious little [note](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Note_to_Hrisskar) is also used, in addition to a few sheets of blank paper. The handwriting is neat and consists of uniform capital letters, although it's written in a curious gray ink._

16 LAST SEED, SE 427

RIGHT. SO WHERE DO I EVEN FUCKING START HERE?

OBVIOUSLY, I DON’T EVEN HAVE MY ACTUAL JOURNALS, OR I WOULDN’T BE WRITING THIS SHIT IN THE MARGINS OF A BOOK I SNAGGED OFF THE SHELVES OF THE EXCISE OFFICE IN SEYDA NEEN. “OH, WAIT, KARKAT,” I’D HEAR YOU ASK IF YOU FUCKING CARED, WHICH I’M SURE YOU DON’T, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN SEYDA NEEN?” WHILE I WOULD ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY LOVE TO GIVE A RATIONAL ANSWER FOR THAT, THE TRUTH IS TOO IDIOTIC TO QUALIFY AS ONE.

I WAS ARRESTED. AGAIN. AND NO, IT WASN’T MY FUCKING FAULT THIS TIME. I *WASN’T* THE ONE WHO STARTED THE BAR FIGHT. OKAY, SURE, MAYBE THE OTHER GUY OBJECTED TO BEING CALLED A DUNG-SNIFFER WHO’D SOONER BE MADE AN IMP’S BITCH THAN ACTUALLY HOLD HIS OWN AGAINST A GOBLIN SKIRMISHER, BUT IF THE SHITHEAD COULDN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH, HE HAD NO BUSINESS IN THE BLOATED FLOAT CARRYING ON LIKE SOME SORT OF ARENA CHAMPION WHEN YOU COULD TELL BY LOOKING AT HIM THAT HE BARELY KNEW HOW TO WALK IN ARMOR. THINGS GOT OUT OF HAND, AND BEFORE I COULD GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE THE CITY GUARD WAS RUSHING IN AND I FOUND MYSELF WAITING TO BE SLAPPED WITH THE USUAL IDIOTIC FINES BECAUSE TRIAL? I’M OBVIOUSLY GUILTY OF BEING POOR SO WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I GET A TRIAL? BUT INSTEAD OF THAT, NEXT THING I KNOW I’M BEING LOADED ONTO A SHIP WITHOUT ANY EXPLANATION, LIKE I’M A PIECE OF FUCKING CARGO, AND SHIPPED OFF TO GODS ONLY KNOW WHERE. WELL, OBVIOUSLY, I KNOW NOW, BECAUSE I’M HERE, BUT HEY, IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE TO HEAR SOMETHING ABOUT THAT BEFORE WE PULLED INTO PORT!

BUT THEN, MAYBE SOMEONE DID SAY SOMETHING, AND I MISSED IT. WHEN I WOKE UP, THE DAMNED SHIP WAS WRECKED. I MEAN, NOT WRECKED WRECKED, LIKE, IT HADN’T CRASHED OR SUNK OR WHATEVER SHIPS DO, BUT EVERYTHING INSIDE IT WAS TOSSED AROUND AND A LOT OF SHIT WAS BROKEN. ONE OF THE OTHER PRISONERS SAID THERE HAD BEEN A STORM ON THE WAY OVER AND THAT I SLEPT RIGHT THROUGH IT, WHICH IS… PRETTY DAMN WEIRD FOR ME, REALLY. I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A PRETTY FUCKING LIGHT SLEEPER, AND THAT’S ONLY WHEN I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF THE RIGHT KIND OF RESTORES TO AVOID IT. FUCK SLEEP, SHIT NEEDS TO GET DONE. BUT SOMEHOW I WAS COMPLETELY OUT FOR THE TRIP, OUT IN DREAMLAND, WHICH APPARENTLY CONSISTS OF SOME SORT OF WINDY, RAINY, ROCKY, RED WASTELAND AND SOME STRANGE CHICK SPEWING BULLSHIT SO INSANE I DON’T EVEN WANT TO POLLUTE MY JOURNAL WITH IT, AND KEEP IN MIND THAT I’M WRITING THIS SHIT IN A FUCKING ASTROLOGY BOOK. I THINK I’D HAVE TAKEN THE STORM OVER THAT NONSENSE. 

ONCE WE PULLED IN I WAS TOLD TO REPORT TO SOME ASSHOLE IN THE EXCISE OFFICE, AND SINCE I DIDN’T HAVE MUCH CHOICE, I DID. HE HAD A BUNCH OF PAPERWORK HE WANTED ME TO FILL OUT FOR MY RELEASE (BECAUSE SURE, WHY THE FUCK SHOULDN’T THEY DRAG ME ALL THE WAY TO MORROWIND BEFORE LETTING ME GO), AND THEN HE ASKS ME WHAT MY STAR SIGN IS. SERIOUSLY? AM I FILLING OUT PAPERWORK HERE, OR IS THIS ASSHOLE HITTING ON ME? SO I TOLD HIM “WARRIOR,” AND HE JUST *LOOKED* AT ME AND ASKED ME, “NO, WHAT’S YOUR REAL STAR SIGN?” I SAID, “MOTHER FUCKER, I WAS BORN IN FUCKING LAST SEED. AS A MATTER OF FACT, TODAY’S MY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO ME! THAT MAKES ME A FUCKING WARRIOR.” HE ANSWERED, “YES, BUT WHAT YEAR?” SO FINALLY IT WAS OBVIOUS THAT I WASN’T NOT GETTING OUT OF THERE UNTIL I FESSED UP THAT NO, EVEN THOUGH I *SHOULD* HAVE BEEN BORN UNDER THE WARRIOR, THE FUCKING SNAKE STOLE THAT FROM ME, SO INSTEAD OF THE INSTINCT FOR COMBAT THAT MOST PEOPLE BORN IN LAST SEED GET, I’M STAR-CURSED. LUCKILY, AS A DUNMER, I HAVE INCREDIBLE BATTLE INSTINCTS, ANYWAY, BUT IT STILL PISSES ME OFF THAT I COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER, IF IT WASN’T FOR THE SERPENT. THE BOOK I’M WRITING THIS IN CLAIMS THAT PEOPLE BORN UNDER THE SERPENT ARE “THE MOST BLESSED AND THE MOST CURSED.” WELL, THEY GOT THAT HALF RIGHT, ANYWAY.

SO ONCE THAT SHIT WAS SETTLED (WHY THE FUCK WAS THAT SO IMPORTANT?) I WAS ORDERED TO GIVE MY RELEASE PAPERS TO THE TOP IMPERIAL GUARD OR EMISSARY OR WHATEVER, OVER IN THE NEXT BUILDING. HE TOOK THE PAPERWORK AND HANDED ME SOME DRAKES, A PACKAGE, AND A LETTER. THEN HE TOLD ME, “HERE, YOUR ORDERS ARE TO DELIVER THIS TO CAIUS COSADES IN BALMORA.” ORDERS? ORDERS? WHO’S FUCKING GIVING ME ORDERS? WHY THE FUCK AM I GETTING ORDERS? HERE I AM, PICKED UP AND DROPPED OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF A PROVINCE I’VE NEVER BEEN TO BEFORE, ALL WITHOUT SO MUCH AS AN EXPLANATION, AND NOW I’M BEING USED AS A MESSENGER BOY TO GET SOME PACKAGE TO SOME STRANGER IN A CITY I’VE NEVER EVEN BEEN TO? WHO THE FUCK COMES UP WITH THIS SHIT?

AND THAT’S WHEN HE DROPPED THE CATAPULT BOULDER ON ME: EMPEROR URIEL SEPTIM HIMSELF ARRANGED ALL THIS.

I JUST… I TOOK THE SHIT HE WAS HANDING ME AND LEFT, BECAUSE I CAN’T EVEN PROCESS THIS. I MEAN… I SERIOUSLY JUST DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO THINK. MAYBE THE GUY’S LOSING IT? HE’S KIND OF PRONE TO STRANGE SHIT LIKE THIS, BUT… I DON’T KNOW, HE’S MANAGED TO GET TAMRIEL AS CLOSE TO UNIFIED AS IT’S BEEN FOR AWHILE, AND THAT’S DESPITE THE DAMAGE DONE BY THARN (WAAAAY BEFORE MY TIME, BUT FROM WHAT I READ, HE REALLY MADE A MESS OF THINGS). FOR ME, IT WAS ALWAYS HARD ENOUGH JUST TRYING TO GET A FEW PEOPLE TO WORK TOGETHER FOR A SHORT TIME, AND THE EMPEROR MANAGES TO KEEP THE WHOLE *CONTINENT* IN LINE. MORE OR LESS. 

THE THING IS… I ALWAYS KIND OF WANTED TO GO TO MORROWIND, ANYWAY. I MEAN, THAT’S MY HOMELAND, RIGHT? WELL, MY PEOPLE’S HOMELAND. MY ANCESTRAL HOMELAND. WHATEVER. EXCEPT NOW THAT I’M HERE, THE MOMENT I OPEN MY MOUTH AND THE LOCAL DUNMER HEAR MY IMPERIAL ACCENT, THEY GIVE ME A COLDER SHOULDER THAN THEY’RE GIVEN THE HUMANS. LIKE I FUCKING ASKED TO BE BORN IN CYRODIIL. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO THE FUCK MY PARENTS ARE, SO HOW THE FUCK IS THIS MY PROBLEM? BUNCH OF ASSHOLES.

SO I GUESS I’M GOING TO DO THIS THING BECAUSE… WHAT THE FUCK ELSE AM I GOING TO DO? I DON’T KNOW ANYONE HERE, AND COMING TO MY “HOMELAND” HAS LEFT ME FARTHER FROM HOME THAN EVER. IT LOOKS LIKE THE FUCKING HUMANS ARE THE ONLY ONES WILLING TO GIVE ME HALF A FAIR SHAKE, EVEN IF ITS THEIR FAULT I’M IN THIS MESS TO BEGIN WITH. 

OF COURSE, GETTING THE SUPPLIES I NEEDED SO THAT I’M NOT ARMED WITH UTTER SHIT THE NEXT TIME I RUN INTO A RANDOM BANDIT OR WHATEVER HAS LEFT ME COMPLETELY BROKE, SO IT LOOKS LIKE I’M WALKING TO BALMORA. LUCKILY, LOOKS LIKE THE ROADS AROUND HERE ARE IN GOOD SHAPE, AND THERE ARE PLENTY OF SIGN POSTS UP TO KEEP ME POINTED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION, WHICH IS ALMOST KIND OF IMPRESSIVE WHEN YOU REALIZE THIS ISLAND WAS ONLY FORMALLY SETTLED, WHAT, A LITTLE OVER A DECADE AGO? SCORE ANOTHER ONE FOR IMPERIAL ORGANIZATION, I GUESS. I’LL ADD MORE WHEN I GET WHERE I’M GOING AND TALK TO THIS COSADES ASSHOLE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I had gone with Dunmer as his race (Daedra aren't an option without a mod, after all, and I'm running this one mod-light), one of the things that the game dictates about your character is that they weren't raised in Morrowind, so I decided to have Karkat grow up in the Imperial City because, thanks to Oblivion, that's familiar territory for me, though, this does mean that Karkat grew up in a rather human-centric environment. My friend wanted me to have him raised by mud crabs. Or possibly [Land Dreugh](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Oblivion:Land_Dreugh#Land_Dreughs). I fear I disappointed her. 
> 
> I figure if canon!Karkat can admire Her Imperious Condescension because running an empire is REALLY HARD, even if her empire is one where he could get killed over his blood color, Dunmer!Karkat can admire Uriel Septim VII because running an empire is REALLY HARD, even though he's human. 
> 
> Tamriel astrology has no Cancer, but the Serpent definitely has the feeling of the "disease of the sky." It's not made of stars, but un-stars! They let limitation into reality! It also doesn't have a set season, but instead travels around the sky and tries to "eat" the other constellations, periodically replacing them for the purposes of birth signs. I decided that Karkat might be pretty annoyed with that, especially because the Serpent's special ability, frankly, sucks, and as a result he typically tells people he belongs in to the sign he *would* have been. To pick that one, I tried to find the sign that Karkat would have picked for himself if he could have chosen, and the Warrior seemed an obvious fit. It wasn't until after I made that decision that I realized that the Warrior's month is the same month as the game's starting month, meaning I could have him start the game on his birthday, just as canon!Karkat began playing SGRUB on his birthday. Of course, this makes his birthday 8-16, which isn't really a particularly Homestucky number, but oh, well. 
> 
> Concerning the art, the last two were reference pics I did for this. The only consistent thing about Dunmer eyes is that they all involve red in some fashion, but otherwise they're all over the map: red iris with white, pink, or black sclera, red sclera with yellow, orange, or red iris, or just solid red. I've looked through references from the games all the way back to Arena, and you don't always even get a consistent depiction in a single game, so I just decided these were all natural variations. After playing around with different options, I decided I liked the look of red-on-black best. 
> 
> Also, I found that when you're drawing a version of a Troll, and you don't get to use the horns, symbol, or teeth as identifiers, the hair becomes a lot more important. Karkat's hair is kind of hard to get right in a direct front view - mine came out looking rather Saiyan, I'm afraid.


	2. Morons In Love

16 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

NO, I HAVEN’T FOUND COSADES YET, I HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN TO BALMORA, BECAUSE I LET MYSELF GET DISTRACTED OVER UTTER STUPIDITY.

I WAS PART OF THE WAY TO BALMORA. HALF WAY? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, I’VE NEVER BEEN THERE. ANYWAY, I WAS ON MY WAY THERE WHEN I RAN INTO THIS RANDOM HUMAN FEMALE STANDING OFF TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. I FOOLISHLY LET MY CURIOSITY GET THE BETTER OF ME AND ASKED HER WHAT THE FUCK SHE WAS DOING THERE. SHE STARTED GOING ON ABOUT HOW SHE WAS TRAVELING AND SOME BANDIT CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND TOOK HER JEWELS. I STARTED TELLING HER, “WELL, NOT MY PROBLEM,” WHEN SHE BEGGED ME TO FIND “HER HANDSOME DARK ELVEN BANDIT” SO SHE COULD LET HIM KNOW HOW MUCH SHE CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT HIM, AND COULDN’T I SEE THE TRUE LOVE AT WORK HERE?

FOR THE LOVE OF TALOS’S HOLY FUCKING NUTSACK.

SO OBVIOUSLY THIS WOMAN IS A COMPLETE MORON WHO’S PRETTY MUCH BEGGING TO BE TAKEN FOR EVERY DRAKE SHE OWNS AND… OBVIOUSLY I’M AT LEAST AS BIG A MORON BECAUSE I’M NOW HELPING HER FIND THE FUCKASS. 

FROM WHAT SHE TOLD ME, THE ASSHOLE’S NAME IS NELOS ONMAR, BUT THAT’S JUST ASSUMING THAT A RANDOM HIGHWAY BANDIT IS STUPID ENOUGH TO GIVE OUT HIS REAL NAME TO HIS VICTIMS. SHE ALSO TOLD ME HE SAID HE COULD BE FOUND IN PELAGIAD, WHICH WAS A LITTLE SMUDGE OF A TOWN I REMEMBER PASSING ON MY WAY. THEN SHE GAVE ME ONE OF HER GLOVES TO PASS ON TO HIM.

NOW, I FIGURE EITHER THIS GUY’S THE MOST INCOMPETENT HIGHWAYMAN EVER (SERIOUSLY, WHO THE FUCK ROBS SOMEONE, THEN TELLS HER HIS NAME AND WHERE SHE CAN FIND HIM?) OR I’M GOING TO WASTE TIME DOUBLING BACK THE WAY I CAME SO I CAN ASK AROUND AND BE TOLD, “NOPE, NEVER HEARD OF ANYONE LIKE THAT.” IF I HAD HALF AS MUCH SENSE AS A BRAIN DAMAGED MUD CRAB, I’D IGNORE THIS IDIOCY AND JUST GO ABOUT MY BUSINESS, BUT… I DON’T KNOW. PART OF ME GOES, “THIS IS LIKE SOMETHING RIGHT OUT OF A ROMANTIC BOOK, SO THERE’S NO WAY IT COULD BE REAL,” AND THE OTHER PART GOES, “THIS IS LIKE SOMETHING RIGHT OUT OF A ROMANTIC BOOK, SO YOU SHOULD GIVE IT A CHANCE TO HAPPEN.”

GODS, I AM SUCH A FUCKING MORON.

I DID GIVE HER A WORD OF ADVICE AND LET HER KNOW THAT IF SHE IS SERIOUS ABOUT THIS THING, FIRST THING SHE’S GOING TO WANT TO DO IS STOP CALLING THE ASSHAT A “HANDSOME DARK ELF.” SERIOUSLY. IT’S DUNMER. DUN. MER. I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS ABOUT HUMANS WANTING TO CALL EVERY FUCKING NON-HUMAN RACE OUT THERE “ELVES,” EXCEPT OF COURSE THE FURRIES AND THE ORCS (WHICH IS ALSO STUPID, BECAUSE ORSIMER ARE MER, TOO, EVEN IF SOMEONE DID GO AND BEAT ALL THEIR ANCESTORS WITH UGLY STICKS. I THINK IT WAS MY ANCESTORS). WHAT THE FUCK IS AN “ELF” SUPPOSED TO BE, ANYWAY? IT’S NOT LIKE “MER” IS HARD TO PRONOUNCE, EVEN IF YOU WERE RAISED SPEAKING CYRODILIC (WHICH, INCIDENTALLY, I WAS, SO I FUCKING KNOW). THE ALTMER AND BOSMER HAVE IT WORSE, SINCE A LOT OF HUMANS HAVE A HARDER TIME TELLING THEM APART (LIKE THE YELLOW SKIN ISN’T A DEAD GIVE AWAY, BUT THEN, SINCE WERE HUMANS KNOWN FOR THEIR POWERS OF OBSERVATION?) I GUESS I CAN’T ENTIRELY BLAME THEM; IT’S NOT LIKE I CAN ALWAYS TELL HUMANS APART. A COUPLE MONTHS BACK SOME BRETON GOT HIS UNDERGARMENTS IN A BUNCH BECAUSE I REFERRED TO HIM AS AN IMPERIAL. “ARE YOU BLIND, DARK ELF? I’M OBVIOUSLY A BRETON!” I JUST TOLD HIM, “MOTHER FUCKER, SO? YOU’RE STILL A FUCKING IMPERIAL CITIZEN, RIGHT?” “OF COURSE I AM!” “THEN YOU’RE A FUCKING IMPERIAL!” “AREN’T YOU ALSO AN IMPERIAL CITIZEN?” I ASKED HIM, “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?” THE ASSHOLE JUST THREW UP HIS HANDS IN FRUSTRATION AND STALKED OFF, SO I COUNTED IT AS A WIN.

WELL, OFF TO WASTE TIME IN PELAGIAD!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Distracted by other people's romantic problems. :(
> 
> One of the biggest challenges of writing Dunmer!Karkat is that many of canon Karkat's usual assortment of swears don't work. Of course, now I get to use human swears instead, but to be honest, I'm less comfortable with many of those. I do try, when possible, to come up with setting-specific curses. This segment doesn't really have any of my better ones, although it's worth noting that [Talos](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Talos#Talos) is one of the few Imperial Divines that mortals can be sure *probably* has a nutsack. There's no telling what the rest of those guys are packing.


	3. The World's Most Incompetent Highwayman

16 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

MARK ONE DOWN FOR “COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT HIGHWAYMAN,” I GUESS. OR HELL, WHO KNOWS? MAYBE IT IS TRUE LOVE.

ANYWAY, I FOUND THAT NELOS ASSHOLE LIKE THE WOMAN ASKED, BECAUSE APPARENTLY HE REALLY IS THE KIND OF BANDIT THAT TELLS HIS VICTIMS HIS REAL NAME AND WHERE HE’S GOING TO BE. IT WASN’T EVEN VERY HARD; THERE’S ONLY ONE INN IN THIS FUCKING SHITHOLE. I GAVE HIM THE GLOVE, HE GUSHED ABOUT HOW BEAUTIFUL AND CHARMING THE CHICK HAD BEEN AND THEN GAVE ME A LETTER TO GIVE HER THAT’S SO FUCKING SWEET MY TEETH ACHE JUST READING THE FUCKING THING. IF SHE’S STILL STANDING OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD LIKE A MENTALLY DEFICIENT GUAR, I’LL HAND IT OFF TO HER THERE AND THEN I’LL BE DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT.

NORMALLY, IF I WERE TO EVER HEAR ABOUT THIS WOMAN AGAIN, I’D EXPECT IT TO BE BECAUSE SHE WAS KILLED IN THE NIGHT BY THE FUCKING BANDIT THAT SHE LET INTO HER HOME LIKE THE MORON THAT SHE IS. BUT SINCE WE’VE ALREADY ESTABLISHED THAT WE’RE DEALING WITH TAMRIEL’S MOST INCOMPETENT HIGHWAYMAN, MAYBE THESE TWO WILL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER IN THE WAY THAT ONLY IDIOTS CAN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, I seemed to completely miss [Ahnassi](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Ahnassi) while in the inn (I didn't even find out about her until poking around the wiki later on). It seems that Karkat shall have to do without a romance-obsessed catgirl to fawn over him. :(


	4. Sugartooth

16 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

I *FINALLY* MADE MY WAY TO BALMORA AND MANAGED TO FIND COSADES. I HEARD A RUMOR THERE THAT HE WAS A SUGARTOOTH, AND SURE ENOUGH, THE MOMENT I WALKED INTO THE ROOM HE’S RENTING I WAS HIT RIGHT IN THE NOSE WITH THAT FUCKING CLOYING SMELL. HE EVEN HAD A PILE OF MOON SUGAR RIGHT OUT ON THE TABLE, RIGHT WHERE ANYONE COULD SEE! THE DAMN SMELL MADE ME THINK OF GAMZEE, ALTHOUGH FOR SOME REASON *THAT* ASSHOLE USED TO LIKE TO MIX HIS SKOOMA UP WITH THIS WEIRD ORANGE SHIT. NOT THAT I WOULD TOUCH IT EITHER WAY. THAT SHIT ROTS YOUR BRAINS.

THE KWAMA-LICKER, CAIUS, WAS JUST SITTING THERE WITHOUT A SHIRT. HE LOOKED LIKE HE HADN’T FUCKING CLEANED HIMSELF FOR DAYS, AND HE JUST KIND OF STARED AROUND THE ROOM WITH A DAZED, MORONICALLY HAPPY EXPRESSION. AT LEAST, HE WAS LIKE THAT UNTIL I HANDED HIM THE PACKAGE I WAS TOLD TO DELIVER. SOON AS THAT HAPPENED, HIS WHOLE DEMEANOR CHANGED, AND HE GAVE ME THIS SHARP-EYED LOOK THAT REMINDED ME OF *SOBER* GAMZEE. YOU CAN BET I WENT RIGHT ON THE FUCKING ALERT THEN. HE WOULDN’T TELL ME A DAMN THING ABOUT WHAT THE PACKAGE WAS ABOUT, AND INSTEAD JUST ASKED IF I’D BE WILLING TO FOLLOW HIS ORDERS. I TOLD HIM IT DEPENDED ON WHAT HIS FUCKING ORDERS WERE, BUT FOR RIGHT NOW, HE SEEMS MY BEST CHANCE OF FIGURING OUT WHAT THE *FUCK* IS GOING ON. BESIDES, SINCE THE EMPEROR SAW FIT TO FORCEFULLY UPROOT ME, IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS DOING ANYTHING ELSE WITH MY LIFE! THEN THE FUCKASS TOLD ME I WAS BEING MADE A NOVICE IN THE BLADES. HE GAVE ME 200 DRAKES, AND TOLD ME TO GET SETTLED IN AND WORK ON A ‘COVER IDENTITY’. 

I. THE BLADES. THE FUCKING BLADES. YOU KNOW, THE FUNNY THING IS… THERE WAS A TIME WHEN THAT’S ALL I EVER WANTED. TO BE A BLADE. I ASPIRED TO THAT, BACK WHEN I WAS YOUNGER AND STUPIDER THAN I AM NOW. BEFORE I REALIZED THAT THERE WAS NO WAY THEY’D TAKE A NOBODY FUCKUP LIKE ME.

AND NOW I’VE PRACTICALLY BEEN FUCKING CONSCRIPTED. 

HIS SUGGESTIONS FOR MY “COVER IDENTITY” WERE FIGHTERS GUILD, MAGES GUILD, THE IMPERIAL CULT AND THE IMPERIAL LEGION. RIGHT. BECAUSE NO ONE’S GOING TO FUCKING SUSPECT THAT I’M SECRETLY WORKING FOR THE FUCKING EMPEROR IF I’M A MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL LEGION. THE IMPERIAL CULT HAS THE SAME FUCKING PROBLEM, PLUS IT ALSO DEALS WITH RELIGION, WHICH JUST DOUBLES THE BULLSHIT. HOW DO WE KNOW THESE “DIVINE” FUCKERS EVEN EXIST? I MEAN, COME ON, I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANY TEMPLE PULL ANYTHING THAT CAN’T BE EXPLAINED THROUGH THE SAME NORMAL, EVERYDAY MAGIC THAT ANY IDIOT CAN LEARN. OH, LOOK, I CAN WAVE MY HANDS AROUND AND HEAL MYSELF! I GUESS I’M SOME SORT OF HOLY GOD-ASSHOLE, TOO! FUCK, EVEN DAEDRA WORSHIP MAKES MORE SENSE THAN THAT. SURE, THEY’RE A BUNCH OF EXTRADIMENSIONAL ASSHOLES, BUT AT LEAST THEY’RE ASSHOLES THAT ACTUALLY SHOW THEMSELVES FROM TIME TO TIME. 

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON ALL THIS ANCESTOR WORSHIP THEY GOT GOING ON AROUND HERE. “BUT OUR ANCESTORS REALLY ARE PROTECTING US!” THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE FUCKING ENSLAVING THEIR SOULS IN THAT CREEPY FUCKING GHOST WALL! I REMEMBER HEARING VAGUE TALK ABOUT IT BACK HOME, BUT I NEVER GOT THE WHOLE STORY UNTIL I GOT HERE. THIS ISLAND I’M ON, VVARDENFELL, IS SEPARATE FROM THE MORROWIND MAINLAND, AND AT THE CENTER OF IT IS A HUGE FUCKING VOLCANO THAT’S CONSTANTLY SPEWING OUT THIS DISEASE-CARRYING ASH. SUPPOSEDLY, SOME SORT OF EVIL DAEDRA OR “GOD” OR MONSTER OR WHATEVER LIVES IN IT, SO THE RULERS OF MORROWIND, THE TRIBUNAL (THREE SHITMUFFINS WHO ALSO PRETEND TO BE GODS, OF-FUCKING-COURSE) SET UP A “GHOST FENCE” POWERED BY THE SOULS OF THE DEAD TO KEEP THE MONSTER AND HIS SHITTY SICKNESS ASH INSIDE. DID ANYONE EVEN *ASK* THOSE POOR DEAD BASTARDS IF THEY WANTED TO BE STUCK IN THAT FENCE FOR ETERNITY? I MEAN, WHAT’S IT EVEN LIKE IN THERE? CAN THEY TALK TO EACH OTHER? CAN THEY *AVOID* TALKING TO EACH OTHER IF THEY DON’T WANT TO? OR ARE THEIR MINDS JUST SORT OF STRIPPED AWAY INTO SOME SORT OF MESS OF PURE SOUL ENERGY AS IT SLOWLY DRAINS AWAY? PRETTY MUCH EVERY POSSIBLE OPTION I CAN THINK OF IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING TERRIBLE. AND THESE PEOPLE HAVE THE NERVE TO GET PISSY ABOUT NECROMANCY? AT LEAST *LEGAL* NECROMANCY IN CYRODIIL REQUIRES GETTING A FUCKER’S PERMISSION BEFORE USING THEIR BODY OR SOUL. I SPENT MOST OF MY LIFE WANTING TO COME HERE, AND NOW THAT I’M HERE, ALL I CAN THINK OF IS HOW I REFUSE TO DIE HERE SO THEY CAN’T SHOVE MY SOUL IN THE FUCKING FENCE. 

ANYWAY, WITH THE IMPERIAL LEGION AND THE IMPERIAL CULT CROSSED OFF MY LIST BY VIRTUE OF BEING IDIOTIC, I’M LEFT WITH THE FIGHTER’S GUILD AND THE MAGES GUILD. I’M GOING WITH THE FIGHTER’S GUILD BECAUSE THEY’RE USUALLY MORE STRAIGHT-FORWARD, EVEN IF NEW RECRUITS GENERALLY GET STUCK WITH FUCKING ANIMAL CONTROL JOBS. I MIGHT ALSO JOIN THE MAGES GUILD JUST FOR CHEAPER ACCESS TO THEIR SERVICES AND WHATNOT, IF THEY’LL LET ME IN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, my sketch does not manage to capture just how absurdly ripped that geezer drug addict really is. 
> 
> When I first built Karkat, I researched mods that add sickles as weapons and checked what skill they typically used, which turned out to be Long Blade and Short Blade. Then... I couldn't actually find those mods (it looks like a large number of Morrowind mods have disappeared from the internet). So... Dunmer Karkat uses bladekind and 1/2bladekind, I guess. 
> 
> As for him wanting to BE a Blade, my thinking was that Tamriel obviously doesn't have the Threshecutioners, but the Blades, besides being spies, are also sometimes presented as sort of elite badasses, so I used them instead. 
> 
> Since I only gained armor and treasure at the rate a not-optimally-observant guy who tends to rush through things would find it, it took me quite awhile to get a complete suit (and I don't think I ever had one where everything matched). Here he's just got an iron cuirass and boots with a bonemold pauldron (I generally won't be drawing the helms). Karkat is from the days before the citizens of Tamriel forgot the secret of actually wearing clothes under their armor, so once he finds greaves, he won't have to worry about pinching his bits on them. 
> 
> Karkat's rant on the gods of Tamriel is actually similar to [Else God-Hater's](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Oblivion:Else_God-Hater), though this is accidental. I'm currently playing Oblivion as Rose (if Rose were a [pretty purple Argonian](http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a398/Jaylynik/Rose-Grows-In-Shadow_zpsd05024ec.jpg)), and only just rediscovered Else. I'm sure Else and Karkat would get along swimmingly, by which I mean, they'd have a very loud discussion that would piss off everyone else in the bar.


	5. It's Always Fucking Rats

17 LAST SEED

IT’S ALWAYS FUCKING RATS WITH THE FIGHTER’S GUILD, ISN'T IT?

I SIGNED UP WITH THE GUILD AS PLANNED, SO WHAT IS THE FIRST MISSION THE LOCAL GUILDMASTER, EYDIS FIRE-EYE, SENDS ME ON? “GO KILL SOME RATS FOR SOME PILLOW-OBSESSED FREAK ACROSS THE RIVER!” WHY? BECAUSE KILLING FUCKING RATS IS THE FIRST MISSION ANY FIGHTER’S GUILD EVER GIVES A NEW RECRUIT ANYWHERE ON THE CONTINENT. BACK IN THE IMPERIAL CITY I OCCASIONALLY TOOK WORK FROM THEM WHEN I NEEDED A FEW EXTRA DRAKES. WHAT DID THEY ALWAYS HAVE ME DOING? THAT’S RIGHT, MORE RATS! THIS IS WHY NO ONE TAKES THESE ASSHOLES SERIOUSLY; HALF THE TIME, THEY’RE JUST AN OVER-ARMORED PEST-CONTROL CREW. 

WHATEVER. IT WAS AN EASY HUNDRED DRAKES, ANYWAY. 

I THINK I’M GOING TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT CREEPY THELAS BITCH, THOUGH. HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE CARE THAT MUCH ABOUT A BUNCH OF FUCKING PILLOWS? THEY WEREN'T EVEN DECORATIVE PILLOWS OR COLLECTIBLE PILLOWS OR ANYTHING. ARE COLLECTIBLE PILLOWS EVEN A THING? THE CONCEPT’S PRETTY FUCKING MORONIC, SO IT PROBABLY EXISTS. BUT NO, IT WAS JUST PILES AND PILES AND BASKETS AND CRATES AND WHATEVER OF PLAIN WHITE PILLOWS. 

I’M GOING TO ASSUME THAT WHATEVER VOID THAT WOMAN LAUGHABLY PASSES OFF AS HER MIND HAS BEEN ROTTED AWAY, AND PRAY TO… NO ONE AT ALL, BECAUSE PRAYING IS IDIOTIC… THAT WHATEVER DID THE JOB ISN'T CONTAGIOUS. ALTHOUGH JUDGING BY THE OTHER IDIOTS THAT LIVE IN BALMORA, IT PROBABLY IS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know Oblivion subverts the rat quest, but they wouldn't have done that if even the developers didn't realize they were going too far with the rats.


	6. Egg Poachers

17 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

SO NOW I’M HUNTING FOR FUCKING POACHERS IN A LOCAL EGG MINE. WHICH PROBABLY STILL COUNTS AS PEST-CONTROL. AS MIND-BLOWINGLY STUPID AS “EGG POACHERS” SOUNDS IN ANY CONTEXT EXCEPT FOR BREAKFAST, I GUESS IT’S NOT TOO SURPRISING THAT THIS PLACE MIGHT HAVE IT. KWAMA EGGS WERE A BIG ENOUGH DEAL BACK IN CYRODIIL TO ANYONE WHO COULD AFFORD TO HAVE THE FUCKING THINGS IMPORTED (THAT IS, NOT ME) THAT IT’S NOT TOO SHOCKING TO HEAR THAT IDIOTS ARE STEALING THEM AT THE SOURCE. 

THE MINE’S NEARBY, BUT SINCE I DON’T EXACTLY KNOW WHAT I’M GOING TO BE DEALING WITH (BESIDES ASSHOLES AND KWAMA, OF COURSE), I DECIDED TO PICK UP A BETTER WEAPON ON THE WAY OUT OF THE CITY. I MANAGED A NOT COMPLETELY TERRIBLE DEAL ON A NEW SABRE AT A SHOP RUN BY SOME FURRY ASSHOLE NAMED RA'VIRR. THE KAHJIIT HAD A LOT OF MAGIC WEAPONS IN STOCK THAT HE CLAIMED WERE DAEDRIC BUT FIRST, I’M PRETTY SURE HE’S FULL OF SHIT, AND SECOND, THEY WERE OUT OF MY PRICE RANGE. STEEL SHOULD BE MORE THAN GOOD ENOUGH FOR ASSHOLES AND KWAMA. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Egg poachers. 
> 
> Damn you, Bethesda, for that pun. >:|


	7. Piece of Shit Sword

17 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUCK! THAT FURRY ASSHOLE RIPPED ME OFF! THE PIECE OF SHIT SWORD HE SOLD ME BROKE RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GODS-DAMNED FIGHT WITH THE DUNGMUNCHING POACHERS! I WAS JUST *BARELY* ABLE TO GET SOME BREATHING SPACE BETWEEN ME AND THEM BY PUSHING ONE BACK WITH MY STAR-CURSE (WHICH OF COURSE HURT *ME* PROBABLY ALMOST AS MUCH AS IT HURT HER) BEFORE MANAGING TO GRAB A FUCKING PICK-AXE THAT WAS LYING AROUND. A PICK-AXE! YOU KNOW WHAT KIND OF BALANCE A PICK-AXE HAS? NONE! IN FACT, THE DAMNED THING’S BALANCE WAS SO POOR, IT SOMEHOW WARPED TIME AND SPACE TO PRODUCE NEGATIVE BALANCE! BETWEEN THAT AND A COUPLE FIREBALLS, I WAS STILL ABLE TO FINISH THEM OFF, BUT I TOOK WAY MORE DAMAGE IN A FIGHT WITH A COUPLE OF PATHETIC ASSHOLES LIKE THOSE TWO THAN I SHOULD HAVE, AND NOW MY ARMOR NEEDS REPAIRS ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE!

SOON AS I GET BACK TO BALMORA, I’M GOING TO TEAR OFF THAT FUCKING KHAJIIT’S HEAD AND SHOVE IT BACK DOWN HIS NECK SO HARD, HIS GHOST WILL BE CHARGED WITH SHITTING IT OUT BEFORE HE’LL BE ALLOWED TO MOVE ON FROM THE MORTAL PLANE! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I don't actually recall whether the problem was that Ra'virr sold me a sword that was near-broken, or if I just didn't pay enough attention to its condition, but I am blaming the Khajiit, and so is Karkat. 
> 
> Also, this is the first and last time in the game that I used the Star Curse, because I nearly killed myself with it. The Serpent star sign is much, much worse in Morrowind than it was in Oblivion, and really the only reason to get it is because it comes with cool "flavor text" (which, for me, is a plenty good reason). 
> 
> I have decided I need better chapter names.


	8. Definitely Not A Thieves Guild Job

17 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

LUCKILY (FOR THE FURRY ASSHOLE), THE WALK BACK FROM THE MINE GAVE ME TIME TO CLEAR MY MIND. SPECIFICALLY, I ADDED A FEW THINGS TOGETHER IN MY HEAD. THING ONE: THE SHOP KEEPER’S A FUCKING KAHJIIT. THING TWO: HIS STORE IS THE ONLY SHOP IN TOWN THAT HASN'T CONTRACTED WITH THE LOCAL CITY WATCH. THING THREE: MY CURRENT BOSS IS A FUCKING SUGARTOOTH. IF RA'VIRR ISN'T COSADES' SUGAR-SOURCE, I’LL EAT THIS PIECE OF SHIT SWORD THE FURBALL SOLD ME. SO, RELUCTANTLY, RATHER THAN LITERALLY TEARING THE ASSCAT A NEW HOLE, I SETTLED ON DOING IT METAPHORICALLY BY TELLING HIM EXACTLY WHAT I THOUGHT ABOUT HIM TRYING TO RIP ME OFF.

LONG STORY SHORT, HE REFUSES TO DO BUSINESS WITH ME NOW.

FUCK HIM, BECAUSE I’M NOT STUPID ENOUGH TO BUY ANYTHING FROM HIM AGAIN, ANYWAY. 

IT SEEMS I JUST *MIGHT* HAVE SAID SOMETHING TO UPSET THE DUNMER WHO RUNS THE PAWNSHOP ACROSS THE STREET, TOO, BECAUSE NOW SHE WON’T DO BUSINESS WITH ME, EITHER. WHILE MOSTLY I’M AMAZED THESE PEOPLE CAN MANAGE TO PULL THEIR PANTS ON IN THE MORNING WITHOUT SCRAPING THEIR PRECIOUS THIN SKIN, NEVER MIND OPERATING THEIR OWN LIMBS WITH THEIR OBVIOUSLY NON-FUNCTIONAL GRAY MATTER, I SUPPOSE I’LL HAVE TO REFRAIN FROM TRYING TO ENLIGHTEN THESE IDIOTS AS TO JUST HOW STUPID THEY REALLY ARE, SINCE I’LL NEED TO HAVE AT LEAST *SOME* SHOPS AROUND THAT I CAN ACTUALLY SELL THE SHIT I FIND WHILE ON MY MISSIONS TO. FORTUNATELY, CLANIER, A GENERAL TRADER IN THE SAME SQUARE, IS A LOT MORE TOLERABLE THAN THE PAWNBROKER. BUT MAYBE THAT SHOULDN'T SURPRISE ME AT THIS POINT, BECAUSE HE’S A FUCKING IMPERIAL, AND IT SEEMS LIKE THEY’RE THE ONLY ONES AROUND HERE WILLING TO GIVE ME A FAIR SHAKE. 

MAN, FUCK THIS. I’D BOOK A TICKET ON THE FIRST SHIP BACK TO THE IMPERIAL CITY IF I DIDN'T THINK DITCHING THE EMPEROR’S MISSION TO GO BACK TO HIS CENTER OF POWER (ALSO KNOWN AS: MY FUCKING HOME) WAS PROBABLY SUICIDE. FUCK THIS AND FUCK MORROWIND-BORN DUNMER. I WAS ALWAYS KIND OF PROUD THAT “MY PEOPLE” CAME FROM THE ONLY PROVINCE TO JOIN THE EMPIRE THROUGH TREATY INSTEAD OF CONQUEST, BUT NOW I’M STARTING TO THINK THAT MAYBE IF THE REMANS HAD JUST TAKEN THEM OVER, THEY’D BE LESS OBNOXIOUS. 

THE GOOD NEWS IS, THE DRAKES I MADE FROM TAKING OUT THOSE POACHERS ACTUALLY MANAGED TO PAY FOR THE DAMAGE DONE TO MY EQUIPMENT WHILE DOING THE JOB. I ALSO EARNED A FEW EXTRA POTIONS, WHICH MIGHT BE HANDY IN AVOIDING SLEEP A LITTLE WHILE LONGER. THEN I ASKED FIRE-EYE IF SHE HAD ANYTHING ELSE FOR ME, AND SHE TOLD ME ABOUT A GROUP OF TELVANNI AGENTS THAT ARE CAUSING SOME SORT OF PROBLEMS IN A MINE NEAR CALDERA, A CITY NOT FAR NORTH. WHEN SHE DESCRIBED THE AGENTS, I NOTICED A PRETTY COMMON THEME, THAT THEME BEING, “THEY’RE ALL IN THE FUCKING THIEVES GUILD.” BUT THAT’S OKAY, BECAUSE SHE ASSURED ME THAT THERE’S NO WAY THIS IS A THIEVES GUILD JOB I WAS BEING SENT TO INTERFERE WITH! IN FACT, SHE TOLD ME THAT ABOUT FIVE TIMES. WITHOUT MY ASKING HER ABOUT IT. 

I’M PRETTY FUCKING SURE THIS IS ACTUALLY A THIEVES GUILD JOB.

IF I WERE IN THE THIEVES GUILD MYSELF, I’D PROBABLY CARE, BUT I’M NOT, SO WHAT THE HELL. IT’S WORK. 

APPARENTLY THE MAGES GUILD RUNS TELEPORTATION SPELLS TO CALDERA (GUILD GUIDES, THEY CALL THEM), SO I’LL SAVE MYSELF THE WALK, AND MAYBE LOOK INTO JOINING WITH THE MAGES WHILE I’M THERE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This would be the point in time when I finally decided that I really, really needed to stop using Intimidate and even Taunt on all the merchants in town if I wanted to be able to actually sell my dungeon loot. 
> 
> Concerning Taunt, I think I only ever successfully got someone to attack me with that all of once? Mostly I just got them to hate me. 
> 
> I guess it's only fair. In canon, Karkat may have been a Troll, but he was pretty bad at actually trolling.


	9. The Only Rational Response

18 LAST SEED

GOOD NEWS! THE MAGE’S GUILD STANDARDS ARE UNBELIEVABLY LOW! APPARENTLY BEING ABLE TO LOB ONE WEAK-ASS FIREBALL AND USE TAMRIEL’S SHITTIEST HEAL SPELL QUALIFIES ME! WHATEVER. IF IT MEANS CHEAPER TRANSPORTS AND FREE RESTORE POTIONS (AND APPARENTLY IT DOES), I’M GAME. 

ANYWAY, AT A CROSSROADS FROM CALDERA TO THE MINE, I RAN INTO, OF ALL THINGS, A NORD WEARING ONE OF THOSE STUPID LITTLE FUR HELMETS THEY LIKE AND… PRETTY MUCH NOTHING ELSE. I ASKED THE SKYRIMMER WHY THE HELL HE WAS WANDERING AROUND SKY-CLAD, AND HE TOLD ME SOME STORY ABOUT RUNNING INTO A WITCH WHO SEDUCED HIM, PUT A SPELL ON HIM IN HIS SLEEP, AND RAN OFF WITH EVERYTHING HE HAD. OR, MORE LIKELY, HE GOT FUCKING DRUNK AND SHE WASN’T GOING LET AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THAT PASS BY. BUT HEY, MAYBE I’M JUST JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS. IT’S NOT LIKE THE FUCKASS EVEN INTRODUCED HIMSELF AS “HLORMAR WINE-SOT” OR ANYTHING! NO, ACTUALLY, THAT’S *EXACTLY* WHAT HAPPENED. SO OF COURSE, I DID THE ONLY RATIONAL THING I COULD DO WHEN FACED WITH A SITUATION LIKE THAT.

I LAUGHED IN HIS FUCKING FACE. 

HE GOT PRETTY PISSED, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE HE COULD DO A WHOLE LOT ABOUT IT. I WAS IN FULL ARMOR AND HE WAS NAKED AND UNARMED. WELL, EXCEPT FOR HIS HELMET, SO THANK THE GODS HE STILL HAS PROTECTION FOR WHAT IS OBVIOUSLY THE MOST USELESS PART OF HIS ENTIRE BODY. 

EITHER THE WOMAN WHO DID THAT REALLY IS A WITCH BUT HE’S STILL AN IDIOT, OR HE’S *JUST* AN IDIOT. EITHER WAY, IT SEEMS LIKE HE PRETTY MUCH GOT WHAT IDIOTS DESERVE.

THE ACTUAL MISSION IS HARDLY EVEN WORTH MENTIONING. I FOUND THE AGENTS SO EASILY THAT IT SHOWED THAT THE MINE OWNERS PROBABLY DESERVED TO BE RIPPED OFF (SINCE THEY COULDN’T DEAL WITH THESE MORONS THEMSELVES), I KILLED THEM, I GOT BACK TO BALMORA AT MASSER-FUCKING-SECUNDA O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING, AND GOT PAID AN ALMOST REASONABLE NUMBER OF DRAKES FOR HALF A DAY’S WORK AND A GOOD LAUGH. 

OH, AND I ADVANCED IN THE FIGHTERS GUILD FROM ASSOCIATE TO APPRENTICE. WHEN I JOINED LITERALLY YESTERDAY. AND WHILE I’D LIKE TO IMAGINE THAT IT’S BECAUSE I REALLY AM THAT INCREDIBLE, THIS PROBABLY SAYS MORE ABOUT THE QUALITY OF RECRUITS THAT THEY’RE *USED* TO SEEING AROUND HERE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel like coloring this one, so I didn't. Given that Karkat is pretty much entirely shades of gray and Morrowind is pretty much entirely shades of brown, it should be easy to fill in the mental blanks. Oh. And Wine-Sot's facial tattoo is blue. So there is that. 
> 
> Yes, I do know that Wine-Sot doesn't actually have a helmet. When I was writing this encounter, my memory decided to add the helmet in there, but even now that I know better, I much prefer it the helmet, so I'm now declaring it to be head-lore. 
> 
> Confession time: any time I install an Elder Scrolls game, one of the first things I download is a nudity mod, not really so I can oggle the "hot" naked computer people (because, let's face it, they generally aren't), but more because the assorted, "Clothes get lost" quests are far more entertaining to me that way. 
> 
> For anyone wondering about "[MASSER](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Masser) FUCKING [SECUNDA](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Secunda) O'CLOCK," those would be their two moons (which, in some Elder Scrolls religions, are actually dead gods).


	10. Cover Identity Fucking Established

18 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

SO I’VE SPENT A DAY AND A HALF FUCKING AROUND WITH THE FIGHTERS GUILD AND NOW HAVE A PLACE TO CRASH IN THE UNLIKELY EVENT THAT I’M FORCED TO SLEEP (THE GUILD BARRACKS, BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH COSADES SAID I COULD USE HIS COT THERE IS NO WAY IN HELL I’M SLEEPING IN THAT FUCKING SUGAR DEN, ESPECIALLY NOT WITH HIM AROUND). COVER IDENTITY FUCKING ESTABLISHED. 

I WENT BACK TO COSADES TO SEE IF HE’S WILLING TO GIVE ME SOMETHING ELSE TO DO, SO I DON’T HAVE TO KEEP WASTING TIME ON RATS AND EGG POACHERS (AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE THAT ‘EGG POACHERS’ IS EVEN A THING HERE). HE DIRECTED ME TO TALK TO HASPHAT ANTABOLIS, WHO TURNS OUT TO BE A SCRIB-SNIFFER I ALREADY MET DOWN IN THE FIGHTERS GUILD TRAINING ROOM. I’M SUPPOSED TO ASK HIM ABOUT, OF ALL THINGS, “SECRET CULTS.” SPECIFICALLY, ONE CALLED THE “CULT OF THE NEREVARINE” AND ONE CALLED THE “CULT OF THE SIXTH HOUSE.” REALLY? THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING HERE? *THIS* IS WHY THE EMPEROR DECIDED TO HAVE ME FUCKING “EXTRADITED” TO A COUNTRY I’VE NEVER BEEN TO? SO I CAN BULLSHIT ABOUT RELIGION WITH RANDOM RAT-KILLERS-FOR-HIRE? CAIUS ALSO HANDED ME A BOOK CALLED [“THE WAR OF THE FIRST COUNCIL,”](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:The_War_of_the_First_Council) AND TOLD ME TO READ IT, SO… I GUESS I’M READING! THE “UP-SIDE,” IF IT CAN QUALIFY AS ONE (HINT: IT CAN’T) IS THAT I’LL BE ABLE TO USE THE BOOK TO CONTINUE MY JOURNAL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! According to a [book that crops up in Oblivion and Skyrim](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:A_Life_of_Uriel_Septim_VII), some time between this game and Oblivion, a four volume biography called LIFE AND TIMES OF THE NEREVARINE is written. _That_ book, of course, never actually appears in game, because it would call for Bethesda making far too many "this is how it went," calls about the Morrowind player character, but it exists in the Elder Scrolls universe. 
> 
> The author? Hasphat Antabolis, the random rat-killer-for-hire Karkat is bitching about here! 
> 
> I like to imagine that the reason the title of the biography is in all-caps in the reference is because Antabolis, being aware of how shouty the Nerevarine is, insists that the only proper way to write the title is all-caps.


	11. Some Asshole Named Nerevar

18 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

A HISTORY BOOK? “SPYMASTER” COSADES THINKS I WAS SENT ALL THE WAY FROM THE IMPERIAL CITY TO READ FUCKING HISTORY BOOKS? *THE EMPEROR* **SENT** ME ALL THE WAY FROM THE IMPERIAL CITY TO READ FUCKING HISTORY BOOKS?

AND IT’S A PRETTY SHITTY HISTORY BOOK, AT THAT, BUT AT LEAST IT’S SHORT. OF COURSE, THAT’S ALSO PART OF WHY IT’S SUCH A SHITTY HISTORY BOOK. 

APPARENTLY, WE DUNMER USED TO BE DIVIDED INTO SEVEN HOUSES INSTEAD OF THE FIVE CURRENT ONES, MADE UP THE “FIRST COUNCIL”. THE ORTHODOX HOUSES HAD A CONNIPTION OVER HOUSE DWEMER’S PRACTICES. FIRST OFF, SINCE WHEN WHERE DWEMER A KIND OF DUNMER? I MEAN, I DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT DWEMER, EXCEPT THAT THE FACT THAT HUMANS CALL THEM “DWARVES” SHOWS THAT HUMANS SHOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED TO NAME ANYTHING, BUT I’M PRETTY FUCKING SURE THAT DWEMER WERE JUST… A DIFFERENT KIND OF MER. ANYWAY, IN *THIS* BOOK THEY’RE DUNMER, THE RELIGIOUS DUNMER GOT PISSED AT THEM AND WENT TO WAR, AND THE OTHER HOUSE, DAGOTH, JOINED IN WITH THE DWEMER. 

THE SO-CALLED-SECULAR HOUSES PRETTY MUCH JUST KICKED THE RELIGIOUS HOUSES’ ASSES FOR AWHILE, BECAUSE THEY HAD ALL THE MAGIC AND SCIENCE AND THE ORTHODOX HOUSES HAD… RELIGIOUS IDIOCY, I’M GUESSING. ALSO, DISORGANIZATION AND INFIGHTING. THEN SOME ASSHOLE NAMED NEREVAR (I’M GOING TO ASSUME THIS GUY’S CONNECTED WITH THE NEREVARINE CULT I’M SUPPOSED TO ASK THE RAT-KILLER ABOUT) FINALLY GOT THE ORTHODOX IDIOTS TO WORK TOGETHER AND TURNED THAT SHIT AROUND. THE SECULAR ASSHOLES TRIED HUNKERING DOWN IN RED MOUNTAIN, THE VOLCANO IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS DAMNED ISLAND (THE SAME VOLCANO THEY SINCE SAW FIT TO SURROUND WITH A DEAD-PERSON-POWERED MAGIC FENCE), THE ORTHODOX HOUSES BROKE THROUGH, THERE WAS A HUGE BATTLE, AND WHEN THE DUST SETTLES THE SECULAR HOUSES WERE DESTROYED, THE SECULAR LEADERS WERE DEAD, AND NEREVAR WAS DYING.

NEREVAR’S BUDDIES, VIVEC, ALMALEXIA, AND SOTHA SIL, ESTABLISHED A NEW COUNCIL AND SOMEHOW OR ANOTHER BECAME IMMORTAL “GOD-KING-RULERS” IN THIS PROVINCE BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, FUCK THE OLD RELIGION THAT THEY HAD JUST FOUGHT A FUCKING WAR OVER. APPARENTLY HAVING THREE GOD-BUDDIES WASN’T ENOUGH TO KEEP NEREVAR FROM DYING, BUT THE OTHER THREE ARE STILL AROUND NOW AS THE TRIBUNAL THAT’S MORE OR LESS ULTIMATE AUTHORITY AROUND HERE. EXCEPT, YOU KNOW, THE PERFECTLY MORTAL EMPEROR LIVING DOWN IN CYRODIIL. GOOD GOING, GODS! 

NOT SURE WHY I’M SUPPOSED TO CARE ABOUT ALL THIS. “THERE TENDS TO BE A LOT OF WARS AROUND HERE ANYTIME THERE ISN’T SOMEONE SMART ENOUGH AND STRONG ENOUGH HOLDING THE REIGNS” IS PRETTY MUCH THE OVERRIDING THEME OF THE WHOLE FUCKING CONTINENT, ANYWAY. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should surprise no one that Karkat's summary of [The War of the First Council](http://uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:The_War_of_the_First_Council) manages to be longer than the book itself. 
> 
> I considered editing out this journal entry, because I have no intention of having Karkat summarize every book in the game (because holy shit, that's a lot of books), but there are a lot of major plot elements that get introduced to the player for the first time in this thing, even if they're of... questionable accuracy. 
> 
> Besides, it includes Karkat bitching about why Dwemer are called Dwarves, and I couldn't lose that bit. 
> 
> For the record, I actually kind of love how differently Elder Scrolls handles Dwarves compared with every other fantasy setting out there. "They've been extinct for a centuries, they were really a kind of Elf, and... they were probably taller than humans, we just got confused with some pictures of them standing next to giants."


	12. Miles Of Red (Tape)

_Starting from this point, the journalist has begun using the margins and blank pages of[The War of the First Council](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:The_War_of_the_First_Council) by Agrippa Fundilius to record his thoughts._

19 LAST SEED

ANTABOLIS MADE ME DIG UP SOME STUPID DWEMER TOY FOR HIM IN A NEARBY RUIN BEFORE HE’D TELL ME ANYTHING USEFUL, AND I AM USING THE LOOSEST POSSIBLE DEFINITION OF THE WORD “USEFUL” HERE. IT LOOKS LIKE DWEMER RUINS HERE ARE HANDLED ABOUT LIKE THE AYLEID RUINS ARE BACK IN CYRODIIL: OH, SURE, YOU COULD FILL OUT THE OFFICIAL PAPERWORK TO LOG AN OFFICIAL EXPEDITION AND POST A NOTICE THAT OFFICIALLY READS “STAY OUT BY ORDER OF SOME PETTY BUREAUCRAT THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT” AND UNOFFICIALLY READS, “HEY BANDITS, WE’RE DOWN HERE GATHERING ALL THE GOOD STUFF INTO ONE PLACE FOR YOU LIKE A BUNCH OF DUMB ASSES, WHY DON’T YOU COME AND TAKE IT?” TECHNICALLY, YOU CAN GET INTO TROUBLE GOING INTO THOSE PLACES WITHOUT FILLING OUT A NUMBER OF FORMS BORDERING ON THE ABSURD, SINCE THE EMPIRE LOVES ITS PAPERWORK. MILES AND MILES OF FUCKING RED TAPE CHOKING THE DAMNED CONTINENT. CAN’T ESCAPE THE SHIT. THAT, AND TRADING IN DWEMER ARTIFACTS WITHOUT PERMISSION IS ILLEGAL, BUT PEOPLE HERE SEEM TO GIVE JUST AS MANY FUCKS ABOUT THAT AS THEY DO IN CYRRODIL, WHICH IS TO SAY, NONE. IF ANYTHING, THEY GIVE FEWER FUCKS BECAUSE THEY HAVE MORE DWEMER ARTIFACTS AROUND. 

OF COURSE, YOU CAN JUST DO WHAT EVERYONE ELSE DOES: DON’T FILE THE PAPERWORK, HEAD ON IN, AND HOPE YOU DON’T GET CAUGHT. AND SINCE NO ONE OFFICIALLY PATROLS THOSE RUINS, IF YOU DO GET CAUGHT, IT’S GOING TO BE BY BANDITS, ANYWAY. THAT’S WHAT I’M ASSUMING THE GUAR-FUCKERS WHO WERE DOWN THERE WERE, ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY SEEMED PRETTY KEEN ON ATTACKING ME ON SIGHT. OF COURSE, THEY WERE APPARENTLY TOO STUPID TO COME UP WITH A WAY TO WARN EACH OTHER IF ONE RAN INTO TROUBLE, SO I GOT TO DEAL WITH THEM IN ONES AND TWOS. DESPITE HAVING TO DEAL WITH THOSE ASSHOLES AND THE FACT THAT THE LAYOUT OF THE PLACE WAS CONFUSING AS FUCK, IT WENT WELL ENOUGH AND I MANAGED TO FIND HASPHAT HIS FUCKING PUZZLE BOX.

I GAVE THE RIDICULOUS TOY TO HIM, HE GAVE ME A BUNCH OF PAPERS AND LISTED A BUNCH OF BOOKS. BOTH SIDES OF THE TRADE SEEM TO BE EQUALLY POINTLESS, SO I GUESS IT QUALIFIES AS “FAIR”, NOT THAT I’M THRILLED WITH BEING ASSIGNED A READING LIST. 

I DID FIND A PRETTY DECENT SWORD DOWN THERE. IT’S BROKEN, BUT NOT WORTHLESS-BROKEN LIKE THAT PIECE OF SHIT SWORD THE FURBALL SOLD ME, AND IT SEEMS TO HAVE SOME SORT OF PARALYZING ENCHANTMENT ON IT. NOT SUPPOSED TO TRADE IN DWEMER ARTIFACTS? FINE WITH ME, BECAUSE I’M KEEPING THIS FUCKER!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the Dwemer sword I found at this point was just a short sword versus actually being "broken," but the little icon in the game looked like a broken sword, so that's what it became in my mind. 
> 
> There is absolutely no evidence that the procedure for legal ruin raiding is as described here, but it just seems like the sort of thing the Empire would do, so I'm running with it.


	13. Sybil of Dibella

19 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

I’M FUCKED. 

I AM COMPLETELY FUCKED. I AM MORE THOROUGHLY FUCKED THAN A SYBIL OF DIBELLA AT THE END OF A WAKING DAY CELEBRATION. WE’RE TALKING EVERY ORIFICE, ROUGHLY, NO LUBRICANT, MULTIPLE TIMES, FUCKED.

I'VE BEEN MARKED BY THE DARK BROTHERHOOD.

SOMEHOW. *SOMEHOW* I MANAGED TO KILL THE ASSHOLE THEY SENT FOR ME. I MANAGED TO GRAB MY PARALYZING DWEMER SWORD BEFORE THE SCRIB-SUCKER FINISHED ME OFF IN MY SLEEP AND ONCE HE WAS FROZEN, I FINISHED HIM OFF, BUT THE WHOLE THING WAS PURE LUCK.

OH, AND ABOUT THAT WHOLE “SLEEP” THING: IT LOOKS LIKE I’M STOCKING THE FUCK UP ON “RESTORE FATIGUE” POTIONS, EVEN IF THEIR NAME IS COMPLETELY MORONIC BECAUSE THEY MAKE YOU LESS FATIGUED AND NOT MORE. I GUESS IT JUST SHOWS HOW WIZARDS MAY BE GREAT WITH *SPELLS* BUT STILL TERRIBLE WITH *WORDS*. IT TURNS OUT THAT WHEN YOU SPEND A FEW DAYS RUNNING AROUND KILLING RATS AND EXPLORING LAVA-FILLED RUINS AND THEN SUDDENLY SETTLE DOWN TO READ ABOUT CULTS OR FUCKALL, YOUR BRAIN TAKES THE OPPORTUNITY TO SHUT ITSELF THE FUCK DOWN AND SHOVE MORONIC NIGHTMARES ABOUT NEARLY-NAKED PEOPLE IN GOLDEN MASKS AT YOU. I’D ALMOST BE THANKFUL THAT *SOMETHING* WOKE ME UP FROM THAT VOMIT-INDUCING IDIOCY IF THAT *SOMETHING* HADN’T BEEN A FUCKING ASSASSIN! 

AND CAN I TALK FOR A MOMENT ABOUT THE FACT THAT THIS PUTRID NIX-NUZZLER ATTACKED ME IN THE *FIGHTERS* GUILD? OF COURSE I CAN, THIS IS MY FUCKING JOURNAL. BUT MY POINT IS, HOW DID HE EVEN GET IN THERE WITHOUT ANYONE ELSE SPOTTING HIM? THIS IS PRACTICALLY A PUBLIC PLACE, FILLED WITH PEOPLE WHO, THEORETICALLY, ARE *FIGHTERS*, WHAT WITH THEM BEING MEMBERS OF THE *FIGHTERS* GUILD, AND NOT ONE OF THEM NOTICED THE FUCKASS WITH THE BLACK BUG-EYE ARMOR STROLLING PAST?

SO. STEP ONE. BUY EVERY FUCKING RESTORE FATIGUE AND RESTORE MAGIC AND RESTORE FUCHSIA OR WHATEVER I CAN FIND IN THIS FUCKING TOWN SO I NEVER HAVE TO SLEEP AGAIN, SO I’M ALERT WHEN THE DARK BROTHERHOOD NOTICES I’M NOT YET AS FUCKED AS THEY’D LIKE ME. STEP TWO: GIVE COSADES HIS FUCKING NOTES AND ASK HIM WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THESE ASSASSINS BREATHING DOWN MY NECK. STEP THREE: FIGURE OUT A STEP THREE.

I AM SO FUCKED.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I think to myself, "Should I really bother posting these half-done scribbles?" Then I think, "Eh. Why the heck not?"
> 
> "More thoroughly fucked than a [Sybil of Dibella](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Dibella) at the end of a [Waking Day](http://uesp.net/wiki/Daggerfall:Holidays) celebration" is one of the lore-appropriate curses I'm happiest with, despite how extremely obscure it is. Because of that, really. 
> 
> There are a few play-notes here I want to make. First, there's the trouble of playing a character who had as a major accomplishment "never, ever slept during his session" in a game that requires sleeping to level-up. I handled it by _only_ sleeping when I absolutely had to in order to level (otherwise I'd recover with various restore potions, which kind of slowed down my advancement because I couldn't practice my spells as freely), and then justify it in-character as, "After all the running around, when he had to stop to read this stuff, he just kind of konked out."
> 
> Since Morrowind likes to do plot-advancing stuff to you when you rest (kind of like SGrub/SBurb, when you think about it, only to a lesser degree), my game would then flip out on me when I did my leveling rests and shove any dreams, assassin, or monster attacks that I had been "saving up" at me all at once, often forcing me to make 2-4 attempts to get leveled. 
> 
> One thing that's kind of funny about the assassin attack is that it's part of the Tribunal expansion and, as such, was originally expected to be triggered when the player had already been playing Morrowind for awhile (and thus has a fairly accomplished character). Later editions shipped with Tribunal already included, though, which leads to the assassin attacking when your character is a pointless nobody, which makes the guy who contracted with the assassins come off as being Sheogorah-level paranoid (instead of just the normal psychotic-royalty level of paranoid that he actually is).


	14. No One Sane

20 LAST SEED

OH, HEY, LOOK, I’M STILL ALIVE. WHICH IS JUST ABOUT THE ONLY POSITIVE THING I HAVE TO REPORT. 

COSADES GAVE ME A NAME OF SOMEONE ALL THE WAY IN FUCKING EBONHEART WHO MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP ME SORT OUT THIS DARK BROTHERHOOD MESS, SO I’LL LOOK INTO THAT AS SOON AS I CAN GET OVER THERE, BUT RIGHT NOW THEY’RE KEEPING ME BUSY WITH THESE IDIOTIC ERRANDS. AFTER I GAVE CAIUS THE NOTES FROM HASPHAT, HE SENT ME OFF TO SEE SOME ORSIMER IN THE MAGES GUILD IN ORDER TO PICK UP… GUESS WHAT? MORE FUCKING NOTES ABOUT THIS NEREVARINE PROPHESY! BECAUSE WHEN YOU’VE BEEN MARKED FOR DEATH BY THE DARK BROTHERHOOD, YOU REALLY WANT TO SPEND YOUR TIME PLAYING “FETCH A SKULL FROM A TOMB” FOR A PIG-FACED OLD CRONE, JUST TO EARN A USELESS BUNDLE OF PAPERS! AND OH, BY THE WAY, I CAN NOW CONFIRM THAT THE LOCALS ARE COMPLETE FUCKING HYPOCRITES OVER NECROMANCY. YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE THE UNDEAD I RAN INTO DOWN THERE! NOW, I’M NOT DEFENDING NECROMANCY, BECAUSE IT’S STILL CREEPY AS FUCK, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? BACK IN THE HEARTLAND, WHERE IT’S LEGAL? THEY CAN JUST MAKE *LAWS* REGULATING THAT SHIT! A CITIZEN’S BODY AND SPIRIT IS PROTECTED PROPERTY, NOT TO BE USED WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION! THIS MAY NOT STOP EVERY ASSHOLE FROM FUCKING WITH YOU AFTER YOU’RE IN THE DIRT, BUT IT’S STILL A LOT MORE PROTECTION THAN, “SURE, OUR VENERATED ANCESTORS WILL WANT TO COME BACK AND SPEND ETERNITY WANDERING AROUND OUR CRAPPY TOMBS! BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT ANCESTORS DO! THEY WATCH OVER US! OUT OF LOVE!” WHAT THE FUCK EVER. 

CAIUS ALSO TOLD ME THAT THE LOCALS VIEW STRANGE DREAMS AS A SIGN OF INSANITY, WHICH I’M INCLINED TO AGREE WITH BASED ON HOW FUCKING INSANE THE DREAMS I’VE BEEN HAVING ARE. ALSO, THE TRIBUNAL, THE WHOLE RELIGIOUS-GOVERNMENT THING THEY GOT GOING HERE, SAYS PEOPLE WHO THINK THAT THEIR DREAMS HAVE MEANING ARE FALSE PROPHETS OR WITCHES AND HAVE THEM KILLED. SO. DREAMS? WHAT DREAMS? I HAVEN’T BEEN HAVING ANY CRAZY DREAMS! AND IF I HAVE, THEY’VE CERTAINLY BEEN A LOT OF NONSENSE! NO MEANING AT ALL IN THESE DREAMS I’M DEFINITELY NOT HAVING! AHAHAHAHAHA!

FUCK.

OF COURSE, THE VERY NEXT TIME I WENT OUTSIDE, SOME RANDOM STRANGER WALKED UP AND TRIED EVANGELIZING TO ME ABOUT, OF ALL THINGS, THE HOUSE OF DAGOTH. THE ASSHOLE KEPT ASKING ME WHY I’M “DENYING MY LORD DAGOTH” OR WHATEVER. WHAT. THE. FUCK. NO. SERIOUSLY. WASN’T HOUSE DAGOTH SUPPOSED TO BE THE *SECULAR* HOUSE? I TOLD HIM WHAT I THOUGHT OF HIM, HIS SO-CALLED HOUSE, AND HIS “LORD,” UNTIL THE SHALK-HUMPING SON OF A DEFECTIVE ALIT *FINALLY* WENT AWAY AND LEFT ME THE FUCK ALONE. I THINK HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN MOTIVATED BY THE GUARD NEARBY WHO HAD STARTED GIVING US FUNNY LOOKS, THOUGH, BECAUSE AEDRA-AND-DAEDRA KNOW MY SHOUTING APPARENTLY ISN’T ENOUGH TO GET IDIOTS TO GO AWAY ON ITS OWN. 

I GUESS THERE’S ONE OTHER THING TO MENTION THAT’S NOT EITHER COMPLETE SHEOGORATH-LEVEL BATSHIT OR IS ABOUT RANDOM STRANGERS TRYING TO KILL ME (OR RECRUIT ME, I *GUESS*) FOR NO FUCKING REASON: IT LOOKS LIKE THE OTHER BLADES AROUND HERE ARE… NOT COMPLETELY TERRIBLE PEOPLE. NOW, SOME OF THEM ARE A LITTLE CRAZY. THEY ALL HAD “WELCOME TO THE BLADES” GIFTS FOR ME, WHICH WAS GREAT AND ALL (EVEN IF I DID USUALLY JUST TURN AROUND AND RESELL THE THINGS), BUT I’D BE HAPPIER IF THESE “GIFTS” DIDN’T INCLUDE A FUCKING ILLEGAL NARCOTIC. UHM. THANKS? I GUESS? THEY ALSO ALL OFFERED TO LET ME CRASH AT THEIR PLACES WHICH… IS A PRETTY BRAVE THING TO DO WHEN YOU’RE DEALING WITH SOMEONE WHO’S MARKED BY THE BROTHERHOOD, YOU KNOW? I MEAN, I’VE GOT NO INTENTION OF SLEEPING ANYWHERE (AND ESPECIALLY NOT AT NINE-TOES “HERE, HAVE SOME MOON SUGAR”’S PLACE), BUT THAT THEY’D MAKE THAT OFFER EVEN… TO A FUCKING STRANGER. I DON’T KNOW. IT’S JUST PRETTY WEIRD. 

ONE OF THE BLADES, RITHLEEN, SEEMS DECENT ENOUGH, IN THAT SHE HASN’T TRIED TO GIVE ME ANY CONTRABAND AND SHE ISN’T AN ALTMER SNOT. EVEN THOUGH I’M NOT DOING ANY SLEEPING, I THINK I’LL SETTLE IN AT HER PLACE WHEN I HAVE TO READ UP ON ALL THESE FUCKING NOTES AND BOOKS THAT PEOPLE KEEP SHOVING AT ME. THAT’S WHERE I AM NOW, SO I CAN READ OVER THESE NOTES FROM THE ORC HAG BEFORE I HAND THEM OFF TO COSADES. IN CASE THE “RESTORE NOT-BEING-FATIGUED” POTIONS DON’T DO THEIR JOB, IT WOULD BE NICE TO… HAVE SOMEONE WATCHING MY BACK. 

LOOKS LIKE THERE’S A LOT HERE ABOUT SOME ASHLANDER BELIEF THAT THE OLD GENERAL NEREVAR GUY IS GOING TO COME BACK, AND HE’S GOING TO FULFILL A BUNCH OF PROMISES MADE TO… THEM? TO SOMEONE, AND HE’S GOING TO DESTROY THE TRIBUNAL AND DRIVE OUT THE OUTLANDERS (WHICH SEEMS LIKE A PRETTY WEIRD PROMISE FOR HIM TO HAVE MADE BACK THEN, BECAUSE WASN’T IT ALL DUNMER?) AND SO ON AND SO ON AND SO ON. IT’S ABOUT AS MUCH GUAR-DUNG NONSENSE AS ANY OTHER RELIGION, BUT I DON’T SEE WHY BELIEVING IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL. APPARENTLY IT IS, THOUGH. THERE’S ALSO A NOTE ABOUT HOW MOST OF THE PROPHESIES HAVE BEEN LOST, BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT FUCKING HAPPENS WHEN YOU HAVE AN ILLITERATE CLAN-BASED SOCIETY, BUT HEY, FUCK THOSE IMPERIAL TYRANTS WHO COME IN AND WANT EVERYONE TO FUCKING LEARN HOW TO READ AND WRITE. THOSE SHITMUNCHING BASTARDS! NO WONDER THESE GUYS WANT THEM OUT. 

SINCE I'VE GOT TO TURN THESE NOTES OVER TO COSADES, I GUESS I’LL GO AHEAD AND TRANSCRIBE THE ONE “PROPHESY” THEY’VE GOT HERE BEFORE I DO, MOSTLY SO I HAVE A REFERENCE ON HAND TO EXPLAIN TO OTHER PEOPLE WHY IT’S BULLSHIT:

“THE STRANGER

WHEN EARTH IS SUNDERED, AND SKIES CHOKED BLACK  
AND SLEEPERS SERVE THE SEVEN CURSES,  
TO THE HEARTH THERE COMES A STRANGER,  
JOURNEYED FAR ‘NEATH MOON AND STAR

THOUGH STARK-BORN TO SIRE UNCERTAIN  
HIS ASPECT MARKS HIS CERTAIN FATE.  
WICKED STALK HIM, RIGHTEOUS CURSE HIM.  
PROPHETS SPEAK, BUT ALL DENY.

MANY TRIALS MAKE MANIFEST  
THE STRANGER’S FATE, THE CURSES’ BANE.  
MANY TOUCHSTONES TRY THE STRANGER  
MANY FALL, BUT ONE REMAINS.”

SEE? BULLSHIT. IT’S ONE OF THOSE CONVENIENTLY VAGUE BITS OF NONSENSE THAT LET PEOPLE POINT AND SAY, “SEE, THAT’S WHAT THAT *REALLY* MEANT, SO IT’S ALL TRUE!” NO MATTER HOW THINGS ACTUALLY TURN OUT. 

THAT’S WHAT IT’S GOTTA BE. THERE’S NO REASON TO FREAK OUT OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. 

BECAUSE THAT DREAM I DIDN’T HAVE, THE ONE THAT CERTAINLY DIDN’T MEAN ANYTHING? NOT THE RECENT ONE, BUT THE ONE ON THE BOAT RIDE OVER? THERE’S NO WAY THAT I HEARD THE WORDS, “MANY FALL, BUT ONE REMAINS,” DURING IT. BECAUSE I DIDN’T HAVE THAT DREAM, AND DREAMS ARE JUST BULLSHIT, ANYWAY, AND NO ONE SANE BELIEVES THEM. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, sure, of course the Argonian gives me moon sugar after I've already pissed off the Khajiit merchant to the point where he won't do business with me anymore! Luckily, there's a catgirl in the Mage Guild basement who was still willing to take it off my hands. 
> 
> Cyrodiil has a free newspaper funded by the Elder Council in a quasi-medieval society. That speaks to me of a culture that values literacy _very_ highly. On the flip side, the Tribunal's better about caring for the poor (mentioned several times in Morrowind, and there's a Dunmer priest of the Nine in Oblivion who complains about the difference). So... they might be a religiously oppressive culture who persecutes dissidents, but at least they keep their poor fed!
> 
> Maybe the Imperial Cult figures that the poor can make due with all the random barrels of food all over the place in Cyrodiil or something. 
> 
> (I like to imagine that Karkat has, at times, had to survive off of barrel food.)


	15. Everyone is Insane and Nothing Makes Sense

21 LAST SEED

IN CONTINUED NEWS OF “EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING PROVINCE IS INSANE AND NOTHING HERE MAKES SENSE,” WHEN I HANDED THE NOTES OVER TO COSADES HE TOLD ME HE NEEDED AWHILE TO “THINK ABOUT HOW THIS INFORMATION FITS IN WITH THE EMPEROR’S PLANS” FOR ME. EVERY TIME I TRY TO THINK ABOUT THE SORT OF IMPLICATIONS A STATEMENT LIKE *THAT* HAS, MY BRAIN FUCKING SHUTS ITSELF OFF AND STARTS REFUSING TO ANSWER THE DAMNED DOOR BECAUSE EVERY TIME AN IDEA BEGINS KNOCKING IT TURNS OUT TO BE TOO FUCKING STUPID TO LET INSIDE. THE IDEAS ARE SO FUCKING STUPID, IN FACT, THAT THEY SEEM TO BE ACTIVELY DAMAGING MY ABILITY TO CONTEMPLATE *ANYTHING*. I WANT TO SAY, “WHO THE FUCK DO THESE PEOPLE THINK I AM?” BUT I’M STARTING TO THINK I MIGHT KNOW THE ANSWER, WHICH MOSTLY JUST REINFORCES MY CONCLUSIONS ABOUT THE SANITY LEVEL OF THIS PLACE.

THEN CAIUS GAVE ME A PROMOTION WITHIN THE BLADES AND A FEW MAGIC SCROLLS. SO NOW I’M A FULL BLADES APPRENTICE. THAT’S SOMETHING, I GUESS. I WAS ALSO TOLD TO GO DO OTHER WORK FOR AWHILE. I CONSIDERED HEADING TO EBONHEART, BUT NEITHER THE SILT STRIDER NOR THE MAGES GUILD MAKE TRIPS THERE, AND I DON’T WANT TO GO ANYWHERE I CAN’T GET BACK FROM QUICKLY, IN CASE I HAVE TO REPORT BACK TO DUTY. 

ANYWAY, BACK TO THE SUBJECT OF CRAZY PEOPLE AND HOW THIS FUCKING TOWN IS FULL OF THEM. TWO MORE PEOPLE JUST RANDOMLY WALKED UP TO ME ON THE STREETS AND STARTED HARASSING ME ABOUT HOUSE DAGOTH AND GOING ON ABOUT THE SLEEPERS AWAKENING. MAYBE IF THEIR LAZY ASSES WEREN’T ASLEEP TO BEGIN WITH, THIS WOULDN’T BE AN ISSUE! I REALIZE NOW THAT THESE NUTCASES ONLY COME UP TO ME LIKE THIS AT NIGHT, THOUGH. THERE’S AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT BREED OF CRAZY AROUND BALMORA DURING THE DAY.

SINCE I’VE GOT A LITTLE TIME TO KILL, I FIGURED I’D SEE IF THE MAGE’S GUILD HAS ANY STUPID SHIT THEY WANT ME TO DO. I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED WORKING FOR THE FIGHTER’S GUILD, BUT AFTER THAT LAST JOB FOR THEM, I’VE GOT THE FEELING THEY MIGHT BE KNOWINGLY STEPPING ON THIEVES GUILD TOES. MY ORIGINAL REACTION MIGHT HAVE BEEN “FUCK THE THIEVES GUILD,” BUT THAT WAS IN THE HEADY DAYS OF LIFE BEFORE I WAS A DARK BROTHERHOOD TARGET. MAN, REMEMBER THOSE DAYS? THOSE DAYS WERE GREAT. I MISS THOSE DAYS. AS IT IS, I’M TRYING TO KEEP THE NUMBER OF CRIMINAL FACTIONS THAT HAVE IT OUT FOR MY HIDE TO A BARE MINIMUM AND THE DARK BROTHERHOOD ARE TAKING UP A LOT OF SLOTS THERE. 

SO WHAT GRAND TASK DO I GET FROM THE MAGE’S GUILD? GO PICK SOME FUCKING MUSHROOMS FOR A FURBALL THEY KEEP IN THEIR BASEMENT! “TO STUDY,” SHE SAYS. YEAH, I BELIEVE THAT. IT’S NOT LIKE THIS IS THE CHICK I UNLOADED THE MOON SUGAR ON OR ANYTHING (THE ASSHOLE WHO SOLD ME THAT PIECE OF SHIT SWORD CAN SUCK IT, BECAUSE I *STILL* DON’T FUCKING NEED HIM!). I SPENT THE BETTER PART OF THE DAY CRAWLING AROUND THE COUNTRYSIDE LOOKING FOR THOSE DAMNED MUSHROOMS AND GOT CAUGHT IN THE RAIN. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT FUCKING SUCKS TO BE CAUGHT IN THE RAIN IN A FULL SUIT OF ARMOR? I NEVER KNEW UNTIL TODAY, BECAUSE I COULD NEVER AFFORD A SUIT OF ARMOR BEFORE, BUT LET ME TELL YOU, IT FUCKING SUCKS. IT SUCKS HARDER THAN BARENZIAH DID DURING HER EARLY YEARS. ON THE UP SIDE, I DID RUN INTO SOME BRAIN-DAMAGED NIX-HOUND’S SON WHO THOUGHT HE COULD TRY AND ROB ME. THAT WAS KIND OF FUN. WITH ALL THESE ERRANDS PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SENDING ME ON, I HAD THE DRAKES TO SPARE AND ALMOST FELT SORRY FOR KILLING THE GUY OVER 100 D- NOPE. NOPE, NOPE, CAN’T FINISH THAT ONE WITHOUT LAUGHING OUT LOUD, AND RITHLEEN’S GIVING ME A FUNNY LOOK, SO I’D BETTER STOP TRYING. 

THE GOOD NEWS IS, THE FURBALL GAVE ME SOME HEAL POTIONS IN RETURN FOR THE MUSHROOMS. IT WAS A STUPID TASK, BUT I CAN ALWAYS USE SOME MORE HEAL POTIONS. NOW IF I CAN JUST GET CLEANED UP AFTER RUNNING AROUND IN ARMOR IN THE RAIN IN A FUCKING SWAMP, I’LL BE GOOD TO GO.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, I hate the mushroom quest. I think the mushroom quest might actually be worse than most escort quests. >:(


	16. Pranks

21 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

MOTHERFUCKER! AND NOW THE MAGES ARE USING MY “ASSIGNMENTS” TO PLAY PRANKS ON EACH OTHER! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp.


	17. Eyes of Fire, Skin (And Everything Else) of Ash

22 LAST SEED

I SEEM TO RECALL SOMEONE RECENTLY SAYING SOMETHING ABOUT HOW MUCH IT SUCKS TO RUN AROUND IN RAINY SWAMPS WHILE WEARING ARMOR. THAT SOMEONE MIGHT HAVE BEEN ME. THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE SORT OF MORONIC THING PAST ME WOULD SAY, SO I’M SURE IT MUST HAVE BEEN.

RAINY SWAMPS IN ARMOR? AWESOME! FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC! NOW THAT I’VE EXPERIENCED THE JOYS OF CRAWLING THROUGH WINDY, ASH-CHOKED, LAVA-COVERED, BEAST-INFESTED WASTELANDS, I’VE COME TO APPRECIATE HOW TRULY PLEASANT WADING THROUGH RAINY SWAMPS REALLY IS! 

THE MAGES GUILD STOPPED MAKING ME GET TASKS FROM THE CATGIRL THEY KEEP IN THEIR BASEMENT AND SUDDENLY DECIDED THEY SHOULD USE ME AS SOME SORT OF DAMNED ENFORCER. I WAS SENT A LITTLE FURTHER INLAND TO PICK UP SOME OVERDUE MEMBERS DUES FROM ONE MAGE AND TRY TO RECRUIT AN EX-TELVANNI WIZARD. TECHNICALLY, I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL BOTH THE DUNG-SNIFFERS IF THEY DIDN’T COUGH UP AND/OR JOIN. I’M NOT EVEN SURE IF THAT’S A LEGAL DEMAND? THE ONLY TIME THE GUILDS BACK HOME COULD SET “JOIN OR DIE” TERMS WAS IF THE COURTS ORDERED IT. YOU KNOW, LIKE THE WIZARD IS DANGEROUS ENOUGH THEY NEED TO BE WATCHED, BUT HASN’T DONE ANYTHING TO DESERVE JAIL OR KILLING OR WHATEVER, THE GUILD GETS SADDLED WITH KEEPING TRACK OF THEIR OWN. I WAS ALWAYS SURPRISED THAT ROSE WAS NEVER ORDERED INTO IT, BUT SHE SEEMED TO BE IN THIS WEIRD PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE WAR WITH HER MOM WHERE, BECAUSE HER MOM TOLD HER SHE COULD GO AHEAD AND JOIN IF SHE WANTED TO, SHE “NOBLY” DECLINED? WHATEVER. ANYWAY, I FIGURED I’D AT LEAST TRY LOOKING FOR THE IDIOTS THE GUILD WANTED ME TO FIND, THEN WORRY ABOUT WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO IF THEY DON’T GO ALONG WITH IT *IF* I HAD TO. 

THE DIRECTIONS I WAS GIVEN WENT SOMETHING LIKE, “HEAD EAST FROM FORT MOONMOTH ACROSS THE DWEMER BRIDGE, THEN FOLLOW THE TRAIL EAST UNTIL YOU FIND THE RIVER. THESE PLACES ARE ON THE PATH NORTH FROM THE RIVER.” SOUNDS LIKE A NICE LITTLE STROLL ABOUT THE FUCKING COUNTRYSIDE, RIGHT? WRONG! WHAT GUILDMASTER RANIS NEGLECTED TO MENTION IS, OH, HEY, THIS FUCKING “TRAIL” WINDS ON FOR MILES AND MILES, FREQUENTLY DOUBLES BACK ON ITSELF, AND IS ALL TOGETHER AS CONFUSING AS OBLIVION WITH NO REAL EDGES! OH, AND THERE’S LAVA. LAVA, ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE. ALSO, ASH CONSTANTLY RAINING FROM THE SKY, AND BY “RAINING” I MEAN “BLOWING SIDEWAYS BECAUSE OF THE INSANE, HOWLING WIND ATTEMPTING TO RIP EVERY PIECE OF EXPOSED SKIN RIGHT OFF YOUR BODY LIKE THE WIND’S MADE OF THORNS AND RAZORS AND NOT AIR.” OH, YEAH. AND EVERY PIECE OF WILDLIFE YOU ENCOUNTER THINKS HEAVILY ARMED AND ARMORED DUNMER LOOK LIKE LUNCH. I GUESS THEY LIKE CANNED MEAT OR SOMETHING. THERE’S ONE FLYING LIZARD THING – I THINK THEY’RE CALLED CLIFF RACERS? – THAT ARE THE FUCKING WORST. THEY DROP DOWN ON YOU FROM DIRECTLY OVERHEAD AND THEN JUST… HOVER, AND STAB AT YOU WITH THEIR SHARP TAILS WHILE YOU’RE STUCK THERE JUMPING UP AND DOWN AND SWINGING YOUR SWORD AT THEM LIKE A RETARDED SCAMP. THE WEIRDEST THING ABOUT IT IS, THE AREA I WAS IN WASN’T EVEN THAT CLOSE TO THAT DAEDRA-LOVED VOLCANO OF THEIRS, AND IT WAS LIKE THAT. IT LOOKS LIKE THE VAST MAJORITY OF THIS ISLAND IS JUST SO FUCKED OVER IT’S UNLIVABLE. WHAT MADE THESE PEOPLE DECIDE, “HEY, TIME TO COLONIZE THIS SHIT! IT’S TERRIBLE AND INHOSPITABLE AND THE SKIES ARE SO FILLED WITH ASH THAT WE CAN’T EVEN DO ANY FUCKING FARMING LIKE YOU NORMALLY CAN NEAR A DEAD VOLCANO. SOUNDS LIKE THE PERFECT PLACE TO LIVE!” 

INCIDENTALLY, I FEEL PRETTY DISGUSTING RIGHT NOW. I’VE GOT ASH OVER EVERY DAMNED INCH OF MY SKIN AND CRAMMED WAY TOO FAR UP PRETTY MUCH EVERY ORIFICE OF MY BODY. I’M PRETTY SURE EVERY BIT OF MY DIGESTIVE SYSTEM FROM MOUTH TO SHITHOLE IS COATED. SO OF COURSE, THE ONLY PLACE AROUND HERE TO WASH UP IS THE FUCKING RIVER, SO THAT’S WHERE I’M GOING IN A MOMENT.

I DID EVENTUALLY FIND THE PEOPLE I NEEDED TO, AND FOR ONCE, EVERYONE COOPERATED! WELL, OKAY, I’M PRETTY SURE THEY WERE TRYING TO GET ME TO QUIT BUGGING THEM BECAUSE IT WAS EASIER TO JUST GO ALONG WITH WHAT I WAS SAYING THAN TO PUT UP WITH ME, BUT I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO MENTION I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL THEM! I THINK JUST SHOUTING UNTIL THEY AGREED TO DO WHAT I WANTED WORKED BETTER, ANYWAY. 

I WILL ADMIT, THOUGH, THAT EVEN THOUGH THE SURFACE HERE’S BRAIN-BREAKINGLY INHOSPITABLE, SOME OF THE CAVES ARE… KIND OF BEAUTIFUL, ACTUALLY. THE BITCHY MAGE WHO DIDN’T KEEP UP WITH HER PAYMENTS WAS IN ONE THAT WAS FILLED WITH THESE HUGE, GLOWING, VIOLET CRYSTALS AND THESE SORT OF… IRIDESCENT MUSHROOMS. I DIDN’T STICK AROUND THERE TOO LONG AFTER TALKING TO HER, THOUGH, BECAUSE IT ALSO SEEMED TO FILLED WITH SOME SORT OF FIRE MONSTERS BECAUSE HEY, IT MIGHT BE STRANGE IF THERE WAS JUST ONE SPOT ON THIS HELLMURDER ISLAND THAT DIDN’T CONTAIN SOMETHING THAT WAS ACTIVELY TRYING TO KILL ME! 

AS SOON AS I WASH UP, I’M TALKING TO COSADES AGAIN. HE’S HAD ENOUGH TIME TO FUCKING "THINK THINGS OVER."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Karkat's first experience with an ash storm (and my first experience with how truly terrible some of the in-game directions are).
> 
> This was about it for the Mages Guild. Karkat never got very far along any of the other questlines, because Karkat is not really a side-quest kind of person. 
> 
> Like all proper Hellmurder islands, Vvardenfell has a volcano, mysterious ruins, and plenty of monsters. It checks all the right boxes. 
> 
> I also decided to slip in some justification as to why my Argonian Rose wasn't already a Mages Guild member prior to the start of my Oblivion game. >_>


	18. An Assassin, a Thief, and a Priest Walk into a Cornerclub...

22 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

TO THE SHOCK OF ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, LEAST OF ALL ME, MY NEW MISSION IS, “FIND OUT WHAT SOME MORE RANDOM PEOPLE KNOW ABOUT THE NEREVARINE CULT AND THE SIXTH HOUSE CULT AND REPORT BACK”! SINCE I AM, TECHNICALLY, A SPY (SINCE THE EMPEROR WHO’S NEVER MET ME AND SOME RANDOM SKOOMA ADDICT SAY SO), I GUESS IT’S A GOOD THING I’M GETTING USED TO THIS EARLY. I’M BEING SENT TO VIVEC CITY TO TALK TO AN ASSASSIN, A THIEF, AND A PRIEST, WHICH SOUNDS LIKE THE SET-UP OF ONE OF JOHN’S TERRIBLE JOKES, BUT IS, IN FACT, A REAL THING THAT’S HAPPENING. I DECIDED TO TRAVEL VIA HOLLOWED OUT BUG-THING THIS TIME, WHICH IS A LOT MORE COMFORTABLE THAN YOU’D EXPECT (EVEN IF IT SMELLS ABSOLUTELY VILE), BUT IT’S A LITTLE WEIRD WATCHING THE… DRIVER? TAMER? CONTROLLER? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD YOU EVEN CALL THE GUY? THE GUY WHO FUCKS AROUND WITH THE BUG-THING’S EXPOSED NERVES TO MAKE IT GO WHERE HE WANTS IT TO GO. IT LOOKS LIKE WE’RE COMING UP ON MY STOP, SO I GUESS I’LL WRAP THIS U- BY AKATOSH’S. FUCKING. CLOACA. IT’S A FUCKING BOAT CITY? YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that it was at this point, when Karkat began discussing Morrowind's bug-vehicles, that a friend observed that flavor-wise, Morrowind really is very "Homestucky" at times (thinking, for example, of Alternia's various bug-computers and such), beyond even the obvious cases such as the upside-down Daedric alphabet being used as the Alternia alphabet and such.
> 
> Or I guess Homestuck is rather Morrowindy, considering their respective ages.


	19. Difference Beyond the Literal

22 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

THEY WEREN’T FUCKING KIDDING ME. IT’S A BOAT CITY. SORT OF. IT’S SOME SORT OF ARRANGEMENT OF HUGE FLOATING… THE LOCALS CALL THEM CANTONS? BASICALLY, A BUNCH OF ARTIFICIAL ISLANDS WITH BRIDGES BETWEEN THEM. THIS PLACE IS BASICALLY A FUCKING FLOATING MAZE. IT’S *HUGE*. MAYBE EVEN AS BIG AS THE IMPERIAL CITY, BUT WITH A MORE FUCKED UP LAYOUT THAT MAKES GETTING FROM ONE PLACE TO ANOTHER A BRAIN-ROTTING EXERCISE IN DISORIENTATION AND CONFUSION. AND THERE’S, LIKE, A FUCKING MINIATURE MOON SUSPENDED RIGHT OVER THE MIDDLE OF IT, LIKE, RIGHT ABOVE IT WITH A BUNCH OF WALKWAYS AND BUILDINGS BUILT ONTO IT. THE THING LOOKS LIKE IT SHOULD COME CRASHING DOWN AT ANY MOMENT, BUT IT JUST HOVERS UP THERE. IS THAT WHERE THEIR “GOD-KING” VIVEC IS SUPPOSED TO LIVE? I GUESS IT SHOULDN’T SURPRISE ME THAT ANYONE CALLING HIMSELF A GOD IS GOING TO GO AND SET HIMSELF UP IN A PLACE WHERE HE CAN LITERALLY LOOK DOWN AT EVERYONE ELSE. I MEAN, WELL, OKAY. THE IMPERIAL CITY HAS THE WHITE-GOLD TOWER, OF COURSE. THEY SAY YOU CAN SEE THAT THING ALL THE WAY FROM THE JERALL AND VALUS MOUNTAIN RANGES ON A CLEAR DAY. BUT IT’S LIKE… THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HAVING A TOWER, ONE WITH STAIRS THAT ANY MORTAL CAN CLIMB UP, AND A FUCKING MINI-MOON THAT’S NOT EVEN CONNECTED TO THE FUCKING EARTH, AND I FEEL LIKE THE DIFFERENCE GOES BEYOND THE LITERAL, YOU KNOW? BESIDES, THE TOWER WAS ACTUALLY BUILT BY THE ALDMER, AND IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’RE EVEN AROUND TO USE IT ANYMORE, SO WHY THE FUCK SHOULDN’T WE?

THE ASSASSIN I WAS SENT TO TALK TO, HULEEYA, IS WITH THE MORAG TONG, WHICH IS GOOD, BECAUSE I’D HAVE HAD FUCKING PROBLEMS WITH COSADES SENDING ME TO TALK WITH SOMEONE IN THE BROTHERHOOD RIGHT NOW. THE MORAG TONG IS ALSO LEGAL HERE. THIS GUY’S ALSO AN ARGONIAN WHICH IS… PRETTY FUCKING WEIRD, SINCE THE MORAG TONG CAN’T STAND OUTSIDERS, AND BECAUSE SLAVERY, ESPECIALLY OF ARGONIANS, IS STILL A THING AROUND HERE. APPARENTLY HIS FATHER’S OWNER SPONSORED HIM INTO THE GUILD OR WHATEVER YOU CALL IT. I FOUND HIM IN THE FOREIGN QUARTER, BUT HE WAS PRETTY BUSY BEING DISTRACTED BY A BUNCH OF RACIST ASSHOLES WHO TOOK ISSUE WITH HIM EXISTING WHILE BEING A LIZARD-MAN. HE CLAIMED IT WOULD BE ‘DISHONORABLE’ FOR HIM TO KILL THEM. APPARENTLY THE MORAG TONG FROWNS ON OFF-THE-CLOCK KILLINGS? WHAT THE FUCK EVER. WHEN I AGREED TO HELP HIM GET TO A NEARBY BOOKSTORE (BECAUSE WHEN *I’M* BEING HECKLED BY RACISTS, I KNOW THE FIRST THING *I* WANT TO DO IS GET CAUGHT UP ON MY READING), THE GUAR-FUCKERS ATTACKED ME INSTEAD OF HIM, AND HEY, WHAT DO YOU KNOW? I’M CURRENTLY ON-THE-CLOCK AND HAVE NO PROBLEM TAKING THEIR DUMB ASSES OUT! 

I GOT THE SCALE-TAIL WHERE HE WAS GOING. IT TURNS OUT HE’S SOME SORT OF OBSESSIVE HISTORY NUT AND KNOWS A BUNCH ABOUT THE NEREVARINE CULT. A LOT OF IT WAS STUFF I ALREADY GATHERED, AND IT MOSTLY SEEMS CONNECTED WITH THE FACT THAT IN ADDITION TO HATING OUTSIDERS, THE HOUSE DUNMER AND ASHLANDERS ALSO CAN’T STAND EACH OTHER. IT’S JUST THIS BIG OLD HATE ORGY AROUND THIS PLACE. APPARENTLY, THOUGH, PEOPLE CLAIMING TO BE NEREVARINES OR INCARNATES OR WHATEVER CROP UP PERIODICALLY. THE TEMPLE TAKES THAT AS PROOF THAT THE WHOLE THING’S A FAKE, WHILE THE ASHLANDERS SAY IT PROVES THEM RIGHT. LIKE THE PROPHESY KEEPS TRYING UNTIL IT GETS IT RIGHT? THERE’S *ALWAYS* AN EXCUSE AS TO WHY YOU’RE RIGHT AND EVERYONE ELSE IS FUCKED UP WITH RELIGION, ISN’T THERE?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Karkat has completely misunderstood the purpose of the Ministry of Truth, not that it isn't still a somewhat creepy coercion of the population's faith. "Worship me, or I let this meteorite fall on you!" Those who know the lore of what happened in Morrowind between Oblivion and Skyrim know what happens with that rock, and that the one who unwittingly pulled the trigger is the Nerevarine. 
> 
> Because of course. Karkat plays the game, and meteors fall. ;)
> 
> And, naturally, while Karkat is frequently racist himself, he has no problem bitching about other people's racism when it inconveniences him. And then turn around and use a racial slur in the very next paragraph. Because Karkat.


	20. Like a Sun-Addled Alit

_Starting with this entry, the author has begun to use the margins and empty spaces of the book[On Morrowind](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:On_Morrowind) for his journal._

22 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

I MANAGED TO TRACK DOWN THE PRIEST, MEHRA MILO, THAT COSADES SENT ME TO TALK WITH IN THE TEMPLE DISTRICT, AND BY “DISTRICT” I MEAN “SINGLE HUGE BOAT-ISLAND TEMPLE-THING DIRECTLY BENEATH THE CREEPY FAKE-MOON-THING.” 

FINDING HER WAS A PAIN, BECAUSE I WAS UNDER ORDERS NOT TO ACTUALLY, YOU KNOW, ASK ANYONE ABOUT HER OR ANYTHING, I’VE NEVER FUCKING SEEN THE WOMAN, AND I ONLY HAD THE VAGUEST DESCRIPTION OF HER (RED HAIR ISN'T EXACTLY *COMMON* IN A DUNMER, BUT ITS HARDLY RARE, EITHER). COSADES SAID CALLING ATTENTION TO THE FACT THAT SHE WAS TALKING TO AN OUTLANDER WAS A BAD IDEA. SO INSTEAD I JUST WANDERED AROUND THE MAZE OF HALLS LIKE A SUN-ADDLED ALIT WHILE THE LOCALS ALL SNEERED AT ME AND OCCASIONALLY INSULTED ME, BECAUSE APPARENTLY MY DUNMER ASS GIVES OFF WAVES OF, “NOT ACTUALLY FROM MORROWIND,” WITHOUT ME EVEN HAVING TO OPEN MY FUCKING MOUTH. I EVENTUALLY FOUND THE SHE-PRIEST WITH THE “COPPER EYES AND HAIR”, AND SHE GESTURED FOR ME TO MEET HER IN THE BACK OF THE TEMPLE LIBRARY, SO I DID. 

SHE TOLD ME THERE’S A GROUP OF PRIESTS THAT TAKE ISSUE WITH THE WAY THE MODERN TRIBUNAL RUNS THINGS CALLED THE DISSIDENT PRIESTS, AND ONE OF THEIR HOBBIES IS RUNNING AROUND COLLECTING UP THINGS THAT COUNTER OFFICIAL TEMPLE DOCTRINE, LIKE THE VARIOUS ASHLANDER PROPHESIES AND SHIT. IT’S PROBABLY NOT A BAD IDEA, SINCE A BUNCH OF SCATTERED, ILLITERATE, ORAL-HISTORY-TYPE TRIBES AND CLANS COULD PROBABLY DO AS MUCH TO FUCK UP THEIR OWN STORIES AS THE TEMPLE DID. SHE SUGGESTED I GET A BOOK CALLED “PROGRESS OF TRUTH,” WHICH PRETTY MUCH TOPS THIS PLACE’S BANNED BOOK LIST, SO OF COURSE I HAD NO PROBLEM FINDING IT AT THE NEAREST BOOK STORE (IT WAS THE SAME ONE THE ARGONIAN HAD ME TAKE HIM TO). 

MILO ALSO ASKED ME TO PASS ON TO COSADES THAT SHE THINKS SHE’S BEING WATCHED BY THE TEMPLE ORDINATORS, OR RATHER, THE TEMPLE ENFORCERS THAT EVERYONE SEEMS TO AGREE HAVE WAY TOO MUCH POWER AND FREE REIGN TO DO WHATEVER ORDINATING AND ENFORCING ON WHICHEVER POOR MORON THEY FEEL LIKE. SHE SAYS SHE MAY NEED TO DISAPPEAR, AND GAVE ME A CODE WORD THAT SHE’LL LEAVE A MESSAGE UNDER IF SOMETHING GOES WRONG. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In fairness, I think the "nearest bookstore" is part of Morrowind's underground abolitionist movement, which helps explain why it carries a few banned books here and there. 
> 
> Not that Karkat's observant enough to notice this.


	21. Fuzzy-Headed Kitties

23 LAST SEED

I FINALLY MANAGED TO FIND WHICH FUCKING CANTON-BOAT-ISLAND THAT ADDHIRANIRR, THE FURBALL THIEF I’M SUPPOSED TO TALK TO, WHOSE NAME HAS WAY TOO MANY FUCKING CONSONANTS, HANGS OUT AT. I KNEW SOMETHING WAS UP WHEN, AS SOON AS I WALKED INSIDE, SOME WELL-DRESSED IMPERIAL STARTED ASKING ME IF I’D SEEN HIS “GOOD FRIEND, ADDHIRANIRR.” I TOLD HIM NO, AND ALSO, FUCK OFF, AND HE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT FINDING SOME OTHER “GOOD CITIZEN” HELPING HIM. 

I STARTED ASKING AROUND ON MY OWN. AT FIRST NO ONE WAS WILLING TO TALK TO ME, AND EVEN YELLING DIDN'T WORK, BUT COSADES HAD GIVEN ME SOME DRAKES THAT HE SAID MIGHT HELP IN MAKING THE NATIVES A BIT “FRIENDLIER.” I HATE THE IDEA OF PAYING THESE PEOPLE TO BE ASSHOLES, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE IT WAS MY GOLD TO BEGIN WITH, SO WHATEVER. AFTER THAT, ONE OF THEM GOT *REALLY* FRIENDLY AND LET ME KNOW THAT ADDHIRANIRR’S PROBABLY TUCKED AWAY DOWN IN THE BOAT-SEWERS THEY CALL THE “UNDERWORKS,” AND WILL PROBABLY STAY TUCKED AWAY WHILE THE CENSUS AND EXCISE AGENT’S HANGING AROUND. IT FIGURES THAT THE WELL-DRESSED IMPERIAL SCRIB-SUCKER IS A TAX MAN. 

I FOUND THE CATGIRL EASILY ENOUGH, BUT SHE SAID SHE WAS TOO “DISTRACTED” BY THE “NICE CENSUS AGENT” TO TALK ABOUT ANYTHING. I GUESS I COULDN’T BLAME HER. HATING TAX MEN IS PRETTY MUCH A UNIVERSAL PASTIME AROUND THE EMPIRE. NOT THAT WE SAW THEM ALL THAT OFTEN DOWN IN THE IMPERIAL WATERFRONT DISTRICT. WHAT ARE THEY GOING TO FUCKING COLLECT? NO ONE HAS ANY FUCKING MONEY THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE! TEN OR FIFTEEN OR WHATEVER PERCENT OF NOTHING IS STILL FUCKING NOTHING. AND SINCE WE LIKE TO PRETEND WE’RE A “CIVILIZED CULTURE,” IF THE EMPIRE STARTS TOSSING PEOPLE IN PRISON FOR NOT PAYING TAXES, THEN THEY GOTTA PAY TO FEED AND HOUSE US INSTEAD. EVEN WITH THE LABOR, THREE MEALS AND A COT’S A STEP UP FOR A LOT OF US, AND IT *STILL* COSTS THE EMPIRE MORE DRAKES TO DO THAT THAN IT DOES TO KEEP IGNORING THE FACT THAT WE EXIST. EVERY ONCE IN AWHILE YOU HEAR RUMORS ABOUT SOME DUMBASS WATCH CAPTAIN GETTING HIS UNDERGARMENTS TWISTED UP OVER IT, BUT NO ONE IMPORTANT GIVES A FUCK. 

I WENT BACK TO THE UPPER LEVELS FOUND THE ASSHOLE WHO’D BEEN LOOKING FOR HER WANDERING AROUND, SO I ASKED HIM, “HEY, THIS ADDHIRANIRR YOU’RE LOOKING FOR. FUCKING HAIRBALL-COUGHER, RIGHT? TAN AND WHITE, DARKER PATTERNS ON THE TOP OF HER HEAD?” FIGURED I’D MAKE IT OBVIOUS THAT I KNEW WHAT SHE LOOKED LIKE, THOUGH A NEARBY LOCAL STARTED EYING ME WHEN IT SOUNDED LIKE I WAS RATTING HER OUT. THE AGENT WAS ALL, “YEAH, THAT’S HER,” SO I TOLD HIM, “YEAH, I THINK YOU MISSED HER. SPOTTED THE CAT ON ONE OF THE GONDOLAS. LOOKED LIKE SHE WAS HEADING BACK TO THE MAINLAND.” HE CLAIMED THAT HE JUST *HAPPENED* TO BE HEADING THERE NEXT, ANYWAY. SURE. RIGHT. AND THEN HE WANDERED OFF.

IT WAS LIKE TAKING A SWEET-ROLL FROM A STREET URCHIN. 

THE PUSSY WAS A LOT FRIENDLIER AFTER THAT. SHE WAS HAPPY TO TELL ME EVERYTHING SHE KNEW ABOUT THE NEREVARINE CULT, WHICH WAS JACK-SHIT. SHE DISMISSED THEIR PROPHESIES AS “SILLY STORIES FOR FUZZY-HEADED KITTIES,” WHICH NOW MAKES HER, BY DEFAULT, THE MOST SENSIBLE PERSON I’VE MET IN THIS FUCKING PROVINCE, WHICH REALLY ISN’T SAYING MUCH. BUT STILL, I GUESS SHE’S ALL RIGHT, FOR A FURBALL. ABOUT ALL SHE KNOWS ABOUT THE SIXTH HOUSE CULT IS THAT RECENTLY, ALL THE SMUGGLERS SHE USUALLY DEALS WITH WON’T TAKE WORK FROM ANYONE ELSE, AND THE SIXTH HOUSE IS PAYING THEM WELL ENOUGH TO OVERCOME THEIR NATURAL BRAGGING INCLINATIONS SO SHE’S GOT NO CLUE WHAT THEY’RE EVEN HANDLING. IT’S NOT MUCH, BUT IT’S ALSO NOT THE SAME PILE OF RELIGIOUS GUAR-DUNG I KEEP GETTING FROM EVERYONE ELSE, SO I GUESS THE TRIP ISN’T A TOTAL WASTE, AFTER ALL. 

I’M NOW BACK IN THE SILT STRIDER (AKA, THE CREEPY HOLLOW BUG-THINGS THEY RIDE AROUND IN) AND ALMOST BACK TO BALMORA. ONCE I’M THERE, I’LL HIDE OUT AT RITHLEEN’S AGAIN TO READ THROUGH THIS “PROGRESS OF TRUTH” AND THE NOTES THE SCALE-TAIL GAVE ME, THEN REPORT BACK INTO COSADES. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked Addhiranirr. Her dialogue was fun, and she was delightfully dismissive of the religious nonsense. She's got a terrible name, though.
> 
> In Oblivion, one of the thieves guild line quests has everyone outraged that Hieronymus Lex, Legion douche extraordinaire, was actually a big enough jerk to try and collect taxes from the Waterfront because that's just flat not done, because those people don't have any money. I used that as the basis of Karkat's experience with Imperial tax policy: "If you live in a poor enough district, they'll probably just leave you alone, and if you've got money and are living there just to avoid taxes, you probably deserve to get robbed repeatedly."


	22. Utterly Meaningless, Even If They Did Exist

23 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

TIE ME UP WITH BOETHIAH’S SWEATY CROTCH-COVER AND FUCK ME UP THE ASS WITH GOLDBRAND! I FUCKING DOZED OFF *AGAIN*! 

AT LEAST THIS TIME I DIDN’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE ASSASSIN FUCK-FACE ON MY OWN. DID I MENTION THAT THE OTHER BLADES ARE NOTICEABLY LESS TERRIBLE THAN EVERYONE ELSE ON THIS ASH-CHOKED ISLAND? BECAUSE I THINK THAT’S WORTH MENTIONING AGAIN. 

ANYWAY, THAT ASSHOLE DEFINITELY DIDN’T WAKE ME UP FROM ANY SORT OF INSANE DREAM FEATURING FREAKS IN GOLD MASKS WHERE I GOT TO SEE MY OWN DEAD BODY LYING ON A TABLE OR ANYTHING, DREAMS THAT WOULD BE UTTERLY MEANINGLESS EVEN IF THEY DID EXIST. 

FUCK ME.

ONE THING TO BE SAID ABOUT BEING WOKEN UP BY AN ASSASSIN – YOU’RE NOT DOZING OFF AGAIN ANY TIME SOON, NO MATTER HOW FUCKING BORING THE READING MATERIAL IS.

THE GIST OF “PROGRESS OF TRUTH” IS, TO THE SHOCK OF NO ONE WITH EVEN HALF THE BRAIN POWER OF A KWAMA FORAGER, IS THAT A GOOD CHUNK OF THE OFFICIAL TEMPLE STORY IS GUARSHIT. I’D GO AS FAR AS SAYING THAT THIS “GOOD CHUNK” IS ACTUALLY “ALL OF IT,” BUT THE FOCUS HERE SEEMS MOSTLY IN HOW THE BATTLE OF RED MOUNTAIN WENT DOWN AND THE FALLOUT. FIRST, WHEN THE CLANS AND HOUSES FIRST WENT TO THE MOUNTAIN TO TAKE OUT THE DWEMER, HOUSE DAGOTH WAS ACTUALLY WORKING *WITH* THE OTHER HOUSES. SECOND, BY THE TIME THEY GOT THERE, THE DWEMER HAD ALREADY MANAGED TO DESTROY THEMSELVES WHICH, I GUESS, MADE THEIR JOBS EASIER. I’M NOT SURE WHAT THE FUCK TURNED DAGOTH AND THE REST OF THE CLANS AND HOUSES ON EACH OTHER, BUT IT SEEMS TO BE SOME SORT OF ARTIFACT CONNECTED WITH THE CONSTRUCT, THE NUMIDIUM, THAT WENT ON THAT FREAKY TIME-RAMPAGE ALL OVER HIGH ROCK A DECADE OR SO AGO? WHICH, I GUESS IF THIS ARTIFACT IS CONNECTED TO SOMETHING THAT MANAGED TO TEAR A NEW ASSHOLE IN THE TIME-DRAGON ITSELF, YEAH, WE’RE TALKING SOMETHING PRETTY FUCKING POTENT. THESE DISSIDENT PRIESTS ARE THINKING MAYBE THAT ARTIFACT’S WHERE BOTH DAGOTH UR AND THE TRIBUNAL ARE GETTING THEIR FAKE-GOD POWERS. 

ALSO, THE PRIESTS THINK THAT THE ORDINATORS ARE ASSHOLES WITH TOO MUCH POWER AND THEY NEED TO LAY OFF THE ASHLANDERS, BUT THEY’RE COOL WITH THE TEMPLE DOCTRINES OF CHARITY TOWARDS THE POOR, EDUCATION FOR THE IGNORANT, AND PROTECTION FOR THE WEAK. SO IN OTHER WORDS, THE PRIESTS MIGHT BE RELIGIOUS IDIOTS, BUT THEY’RE TRYING NOT TO BE COMPLETE ASSHOLES. 

NOW I’VE GOT TO DELIVER THIS SHIT TO COSADES, BUT IF HE’S GIVING ME ANOTHER DAY OFF, IT’S TIME FOR ME TO TAKE THAT TRIP TO EBONHEART THAT I’VE BEEN PUTTING OFF, BECAUSE THIS IS GETTING FUCKING STUPID. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many assassination attempts do you have to survive for it to go from freak-out-worthy to just annoying? 
> 
> Technically speaking, in the game, the Blade whose house Karkat was in just kind of... ignored the fact that her guest was being attacked by an assassin and went about her business, but I decided to be kind to her for the "real" version. I don't always give these dumb-AI NPCs that kind of benefit of a doubt. 
> 
> How does Karkat know so much about the Warp of the West? (Aside from some reports to come out of it that Numidiun was seen at multiple places at the same time during it.) Why, he's got a friend back in the Imperial City who's Bro went missing during it. ;)


	23. No Fucking Dunmer

24 LAST SEED

I CALLED IT. IT’S A DAY OFF. FUCK THE FIGHTERS GUILD, FUCK THE MAGES GUILD, I’M DEALING WITH MY ASSASSIN PROBLEM.

IT TURNS OUT THAT EBONHEART ISN’T TOO FAR FROM VIVEC CITY, SO I TOOK THE SILT STRIDER (NOT TO BE CONFUSED WITH ANY OTHER STRIDER I’VE KNOW, BUT ABOUT AS GOOD LOOKING) BACK TO VIVEC, THEN WALKED THE REST OF THE WAY. APPARENTLY, THIS PLACE HAS RANCHES FOR GIANT GLOWING FLYING JELLY-FISH THINGS. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU EVEN *DO* WITH A GIANT FLYING JELLY-FISH? PLEASE TELL ME THESE PEOPLE DON’T FUCKING MILK FLYING JELLY-FISH, BECAUSE IF I FIND OUT THEY DRINK JELLY-FISH MILK AROUND HERE, I’M DONE. THAT’S JUST IT, GAME OVER, I FUCKING QUIT. I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO ASK ANYONE WHAT THE JELLY-FISH RANCHES ARE FOR BECAUSE I’M FUCKING TERRIFIED OF WHAT THE ANSWER IS, AND I SURE AS HELL AM NOT DRINKING ANY MILK IN THIS COUNTRY.

FUCK. NO WONDER THE SKOOMA TRADE IS DOING SO WELL AROUND HERE.

EBORNHEART IS BASICALLY A BIG FORT-CITY-PORT, AND IS PRETTY MUCH THE IMPERIAL HEADQUARTERS ON THIS ISLAND. THE ENTRY TO IT IS DOMINATED BY THIS HUGE ASS SPIRE WITH A CARVING OF DRAGON FLYING AROUND IT, BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH WE’VE BEEN PRETTY FUCKED EVERY TIME WE’VE HAD ACTUAL, LITERAL DRAGONS RUNNING AROUND THIS CONTINENT, THE EMPIRE SURE DOES LOVE ITS SYMBOLIC DRAGONS! NOTHING SAYS, “THIS IS THE EMPIRE’S CITY” QUITE LIKE A HUGE FUCKING STONE DRAGON HANGING AROUND JUST INSIDE THE CITY WALLS. I TOOK ONE LOOK AT THAT THING, AND IT MADE ME THINK SO MUCH OF THE DRAGON IN TALOS PLAZA, AND I JUST KIND OF STOPPED DEAD IN MY TRACKS.

FUCK ME. FUCK ME AND FUCK MY LIFE. I SPENT MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE THINKING, “SOMEDAY I’M GOING TO GO BACK TO MORROWIND! MY REAL HOME!” BACK TO MORROWIND! HAH! LIKE I’D EVER EVEN BEEN HERE! AND NOW HERE I AM, AND EVERYTHING’S STRANGE AND ALIEN AND THE PEOPLE MAY LOOK LIKE ME BUT THEY’RE NOTHING LIKE ME AND NOW… NOW ALL IT TAKES IS ONE GODS DAMNED STONE DRAGON AND I’M SUDDENLY ALL WEEPY WITH HOMESICKNESS AND I REALIZE JUST HOW MUCH I DO NOT. FUCKING. BELONG HERE. 

NO WONDER THE LOCALS HATE ME. I’M NO FUCKING DUNMER. I MIGHT AS WELL JUST LOP THE TIPS OF MY EARS OFF AND BLEACH MY SKIN. I’M SURE THERE’S A SPELL OR POTION OR FUCKALL FOR THAT. I MIGHT AS WELL BE HUMAN, BECAUSE I’M SURE AS HELL A SHITTY MER. 

APELLES MATIUS, THE NAME OF THE GUY I’D BEEN GIVEN TO TALK TO, TURNED OUT TO BE A GUARD CAPTAIN. HE WASN’T HARD TO FIND, AND HE WAS PRETTY FUCKING INTERESTED IN HEARING THAT THE DARK BROTHERHOOD IS TRYING TO SET UP SHOP ON THE ISLAND. HE SAYS THAT THEY USUALLY ONLY OPERATE ON THE MAINLAND, OUT OF MOURNHOLD. MOURNHOLD’S TURNING AWAY BOATS FROM VVARDENFELL RIGHT NOW OVER THE BLIGHT, BUT MATIUS SAYS THERE MAY BE SOME MAGES AROUND WILLING TO GET SOMEONE AROUND THAT, MAKING IT THE MOST IDIOTICALLY INEFFECTUAL QUARANTINE EVER. AND, I MEAN… DON’T THEY HAVE A GUY THEY WORSHIP AS A FUCKING GOD OUT HERE ON THIS ISLAND? ARE THEY JUST GOING TO TURN *HIS* ASS AWAY, TOO? IT DOES MAKE ME WONDER WHY THE HELL THAT TAX COLLECTOR BELIEVED ME WHEN I TOLD HIM I SAW THE FURBALL HEADED OFF, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE ANYONE’S GOT THE MANPOWER TO WATCH EVERY BIT OF COAST ON THE CONTINENT. 

ANYWAY, MATIUS SAYS THAT NOW THAT THEY KNOW TO LOOK OUT FOR THE BROTHERHOOD, THEY SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO A BETTER JOB OF KEEPING THEM OFF THE FUCKING ISLAND. SINCE I DON’T REALLY HAVE TIME TO TRACK DOWN MAGES TO ZAP ME OFF TO THE MAINLAND OR WHATEVER, THAT WILL HAVE TO BE ENOUGH FOR NOW. FOR NOW, I GUESS IT’S TIME TO GO REPORT BACK TO COSADES LIKE A FUCKING HUMAN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of Morrowind really does look like a desaturated Alice in Wonderland. Anyway, after several no-picture entries, we get two at once with this one: Karkat meets the netch, and sad Karkat sulking with statue. 
> 
> After I got to Ebonheart, I realized I realized that I had somehow missed the fricking boat that was RIGHT NEXT TO the Silt Strider station and would have taken me right there, but I'm cool with having walked, because then we get Karkat's reaction to the netch. 
> 
> Me, I love netch. They're visually interesting, and one of the very few creatures in Tamriel that don't attack you on sight. I'm really convinced that anyone on that continent who leaves a city, ever, is a badass of a level rarely seen on Earth, because the second you leave the city, EVERYTHING BUT THE DEER AND NETCH ARE TRYING TO KILL YOU.
> 
> (And yes, Karkat has mix-matched bonemold pauldrons. His gauntlets are also mix-matched, not that you can see in these pics.)


	24. Culturally-Sensitive Karkat

24 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

I AM NOT SURE WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THESE “GO MAKE FRIENDS WITH A LOCAL” MISSIONS THAT COSADES LIKES TO HAND ME. I MEAN, THE DUDE’S SPOKEN WITH ME. HE KNOWS WHAT I’M FUCKING LIKE. I’M GOING TO ASSUME IT’S THE SUGAR ROTTING HIS BRAIN AS HARD AS IT’S ROTTING HIS TEETH. 

LUCKILY, IT TURNS OUT THAT WITH THESE ASHLANDERS, “MAKING FRIENDS” IS MORE ABOUT GIVING THEM SHIT BEFORE YOU TRY TO TALK TO THEM THAN IT IS ABOUT ACTUALLY TALKING TO THEM. WHICH MEANS THEY REALLY WORK LIKE JUST ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE IN THE FUCKING EMPIRE, WHICH MAKES ME WONDER WHY THE FUCK EVERYONE SEEMS TO HAVE SUCH BIG PROBLEMS DEALING WITH THESE ASSHOLES. 

CAIUS SENT ME TO CHAT UP SOME ASHLANDER WHO “WENT CIVILIZED,” WHICH LARGELY TRANSLATES TO, “LEARNED TO READ,” NAMED HASSOUR ZAINSUBANI IN ALD’RUHN. HE GAVE ME SOME DRAKES, SAID, “FIND OUT WHAT HE’S INTO AND BUY HIM SOMETHING.” SURE. WHATEVER. HERE WE GO, CULTURALLY SENSITIVE KARKAT, THE GIFT GIVING MORON. THAT’S ME NOW. 

I TOOK THE BUG TO GET TO ALD’RUHN, AND IT TURNS OUT THIS CITY IS MADE OUT OF, AND I SHIT YOU NOT, CRABS. ALL THE BUILDINGS ARE MADE OUT OF GIANT FUCKING CRAB-SHELLS (AND MAYBE SOME BUG-SHELLS MIXED IN) WITH ROOMS DUG OUT BENEATH THEM. WE ARE *MILES* FROM THE SHORE. WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN GET A CRAB THIS SIZE, *ESPECIALLY* THIS FAR FROM SEA? THE CENTRAL “BUILDING” HOLDS AT LEAST THREE MANSIONS, THREE OR MORE SHOPS, AND THE FUCKING CITY COUNCIL, PLUS A FEW OTHER THINGS, ALL IN ONE FUCKING CRAB-SHELL! WHAT. THE. EVER-LIVING. *FUCK*. AND HAVE NONE OF THESE PEOPLE NOTICED HOW THEY FUCKING SMELL? BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL HAVE. IT’S ALMOST - *ALMOST* - ENOUGH TO MAKE ME GLAD TO GET BACK OUTSIDE IN THE FUCKING ASH-STORMS! WHICH, OH, YEAH, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD MENTION, THIS PLACE IS CLOSE ENOUGH TO THAT MONSTER-GOD MOUNTAIN TO GET ASH-STORMS AND EVEN THE OCCASIONAL BLIGHT-MONSTER. GREAT JOB THAT SOUL-POWERED FENCE IS DOING KEEPING THAT SHIT INSIDE. 

THE BIGGEST FLAW IN THE GRAND PLAN OF, “BRIBE THIS ASSHOLE WITH SHIT THAT HE LIKES BEFORE TRYING TO TALK TO HIM” IS THAT THAT MEANS TALKING TO *OTHER PEOPLE* FIRST TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HE LIKES, AND OTHER PEOPLE ARE ALSO ASSHOLES. THIS IS NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M ME, EITHER. EVEN WHEN I AM DOING MY ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEST TO BE CULTURALLY-SENSITIVE KARKAT AND NOT COMMENTING ON HOW EVERYONE HERE SMELLS LIKE DEAD CRABS AND EVEN BEING FUCKING CAREFUL ABOUT THE NUMBER OF TIMES I SAY “FUCK” IN A SENTENCE, IT’S STILL ALL “OUTLANDER” THIS AND “N’WAH” THAT AND “MAKE IT FAST, STRANGER.” 

I EVENTUALLY GOT OUT OF *SOMEONE* THAT THE SHITMUFFIN WITH WAY TOO FUCKING MANY LETTERS IN HIS NAME LIKES READING POETRY BY AND ABOUT HIS PEOPLE, BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH HIS PEOPLE ARE ILLITERATE FUCKS, THERE’S OFTEN *SOMEONE* AROUND TO WRITE THAT SHIT DOWN. SINCE THIS CITY HAS A BOOKSTORE (A CRAB-SHELL BOOKSTORE, OF COURSE), I CHECKED IT OUT TO SEE IF I COULD FIND ANYTHING AND LUCKED INTO A BOOK OF ASHLANDER HYMNS AND POETRY. I FLIPPED THROUGH THE BOOK AND FOUND A FEW LOVE POEMS, AND I THINK IT’S PRETTY SAFE TO SAY THAT THE ASHLANDERS ARE INSANELY KINKY FUCKERS. IT’S ALL ABOUT UNBREAKABLE BONDS AND CHAINS TIED IN FAITH BENEATH THE HIGHER POWER- OH, GODS. OH, GODS, I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING. THESE FUCKERS WORSHIP THEIR OWN ANCESTORS, DON’T THEY? ANY “HIGHER POWER” THEY MENTION, THAT’S WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, ISN’T IT? 

I HOPE TO FUCK WE’RE NOT TALKING BONDAGE-THREESOMES WITH THEIR FUCKING ANCESTOR-GHOSTS HERE. 

EITHER WAY, CULTURALLY-SENSITIVE KARKAT KEPT THAT SHIT TO HIMSELF WHEN HE GAVE HASSOUR HIS BOOK, AND HASSOUR WAS WILLING ENOUGH TO TELL HIM ABOUT THE NEREVARINE CULT. IT TURNS OUT THAT THAT’S NOT REALLY AS HUGE A THING AMONG THEM AS THE SETTLED DUNMER MAKE IT OUT TO BE, BECAUSE EACH TRIBE HAS THEIR OWN LITTLE TRIBAL ANCESTOR CULT AND MOST OF THEM JUST WORSHIP THAT. THE NEREVARINE CULT ISN’T REALLY THE SAME THING, AND THEIR MEMBERS ARE MOSTLY MORE SCATTERED, WITH ONLY ONE TRIBE THAT REALLY FOLLOWS IT HARD CORE. I THINK IT’S JUST *BECAUSE* IT’S THE WEIRDEST RELIGION TO COME OUT OF THOSE NOMADS THAT IT’S THE ONE EVERYONE ELSE HAS HEARD OF, YOU KNOW, SO THAT THE FOLKS IN TOWNS CAN JUST POINT AND SAY, “LOOK AT WHAT THESE ASSHOLES WORSHIP!” AND FEEL GOOD ABOUT THEMSELVES WHILE THEY PRETEND THAT THE ASSHOLES THEY WORSHIP ARE SOMEHOW ANY BETTER. 

HASSOUR GAVE ME DIRECTIONS TO FIND THE CULT-TRIBE, CALLED URSHILAKU, BECAUSE NONE OF THESE FUCKERS HAVE EASY TO SPELL NAMES BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK DO THEY CARE? THEY’RE ILLITERATE AND DON’T HAVE TO WRITE THIS STUFF DOWN, ANYWAY. SO I GOT THAT AND A FEW MORE NOTES FROM HIM BECAUSE HE, AT LEAST, KNOWS HOW TO WRITE, SO NOW I HAVE SOMETHING TO HAND OFF TO COSADES ONCE I GET OUT OF ASH-STORM-CRAB-LAND AND BACK TO BALMORA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, the NPC names are frigging ridiculous at times. 
> 
> I'm going to add that I've actually started playing Daggerfall again, of all things (as a character based on Dirk >_>; ), and now that I've gone back and played that, I've decided that the Dunmer reputation for being unfriendly is completely unfair. I mean, yeah, they are all huge jerks, but considering the number one greeting I'm getting from NPCs over in High Rock is, "What the hell do you want, Dirk?" I don't see how the Dunmer qualify as any _less_ friendly than that.


	25. An Individual of No Rank or Consequence

_From this point, the journalist has begun writing in the margins of[Reflections on Cult Worship,](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Reflections_on_Cult_Worship) although a [letter addressed to Spymaster Caius Cosades](http://uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Decoded_package) is also tucked into the book._

25 LAST SEED

I. I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PROCESS THIS SHIT ANYMORE. THIS IS JUST… THIS IS JUST SO FAR PAST THE REALMS OF SANITY. LIKE. COULD VVARDENFELL SOMEHOW BE ONE OF THE SHIVERING ISLES ALL THIS TIME AND I JUST NEVER REALIZED IT? 

I FINALLY FOUND OUT WHAT I’M HERE FOR, AND IT’S AS BAD AS I SUSPECTED. WORSE, REALLY. COSADES GAVE ME A DECODED COPY OF THAT LETTER I WAS TOLD TO DELIVER TO HIM WHEN I FIRST GOT HERE AND I… I’VE JUST BEEN SITTING HERE READING IT OVER AND OVER, TRYING TO FUCKING MAKE SENSE OF IT. IT’S NOT THAT IT’S HARD TO READ OR ANYTHING, BUT I JUST CAN’T GET MY HEAD AROUND WHAT IT SAYS AND WHAT THEY’RE FUCKING EXPECTING OF ME AND WHO… WHO IT IS PULLING THESE FUCKING STRINGS. 

THIS SHIT’S COMING STRAIGHT FROM THE EMPEROR AND HE… HE THINKS I MIGHT BE THIS “NEREVARINE.” I “HAVE THE APPEARANCE OF MEETING THIS LOCAL SUPERSTITION,” WHICH MAKES IT SOUND LIKE THEY MIGHT JUST WANT ME TO FAKE IT. YOU KNOW, SINCE HAVING THEIR FUCKING PROPHESIZED, REINCARNATED HERO TURN OUT TO BE AN IMPERIAL LOYALIST HAS GOT TO BE PRETTY HANDY TO THEM FOR THE EMPIRE, RIGHT? LIKE, “HAHA, SUCKERS! YOU THOUGHT THIS ASSHOLE WAS SUPPOSED TO DRIVE OUT FOREIGNERS? FUCK YOU! IT SAYS ‘INVADERS’, ANYWAY, AND WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SO WORKED UP ABOUT THE PEOPLE BUILDING ROADS AND FUCKALL WHEN YOU’VE GOT DISEASE MONSTERS POURING OUT OF THE FUCKING VOLCANO IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ISLAND?” I’M SURE *EVERYONE* WOULD GET A GOOD LAUGH OUT OF *THAT* ONE. WELL, EXCEPT THE PEOPLE WHO REALLY ARE MORE WORKED UP ABOUT THE EMPIRE THAN THE DISEASE MONSTERS, BUT FUCK THEM. 

THE THING IS… WELL, FIRST, IN ORDER TO “FAKE THIS,” IT LOOKS LIKE I’M SUPPOSED TO DO A LOT OF PRETTY IMPOSSIBLE SHIT. BUT SECOND… THEY’RE NOT REALLY ASKING ME TO FAKE IT. THE LETTER SAYS THE EMPEROR THINKS THIS GUAR-MANURE IS “GENUINE AND SIGNIFICANT,” WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT’S SUPPOSED TO MEAN. 

URIEL SEPTIM VII, GRAND MOTHERFUCKER IN CHARGE OF THIS WHOLE FUCKING CONTINENT, REALLY THINKS I’M A FUCKING REINCARNATED SAVIOR-SAINT. BEFORE I GOT SHIPPED OFF HERE, MY MOST WELL KNOWN ACCOMPLISHMENT WAS GETTING MY ASS THROWN OUT OF EVERY FUCKING BAR, TAVERN, AND INN WITHIN A DAY’S WALK OF THE IMPERIAL CITY OVER MY FUCKING BIG MOUTH. SOME OF THEM, MULTIPLE TIMES! HOW THE HELL DO I EVEN DEAL WITH SOMETHING LIKE THIS?

AND WHAT DO I DO? DO I JUST LEAVE? JUST… RUN OFF, DO MY OWN THING? WHERE DO I GO? THE ONLY PEOPLE I KNOW OUTSIDE OF THE IMPERIAL CITY ARE BLADES, AND INSIDE OF THAT CITY IS SURE AS FUCK NO PLACE TO HIDE FROM THE EMPEROR IN! AND THAT’S ASSUMING I COULD EVEN FIND MY WAY BACK THERE! 

BUT THE THING IS… ALL MY LIFE, I ALWAYS INSISTED I WAS MEANT FOR SOMETHING MORE. LIKE I HAD SOME SORT OF GRAND DESTINY JUST WAITING TO BE DISCOVERED, AND EVERYONE AROUND ME WERE SOFT IN THE FUCKING SKULL FOR NOT RECOGNIZING IT. AND NOW HERE I’VE GOT THIS LETTER FROM THE EMPEROR’S PERSONAL SECRETARY GOING, “HERE’S THAT GRAND DESTINY FOR YOU!” AND I’M SCARED SHITLESS. 

BUT. FUCK. AT THIS POINT, WHAT DO I HAVE TO LOSE, ANYWAY? IT’S NOT LIKE MY LIFE WAS AMOUNTING TO ANYTHING. I BET NO ONE BACK AT THE CITY HAS EVEN NOTICED I’M GONE YET. THE FIRST SENTENCE OF THE LETTER AFTER THE GREETING IS, “I HAVE THE HONOR TO ACQUAINT YOU WITH HIS MAJESTY’S WISHES CONCERNING KARKAT VANTAS, AN INDIVIDUAL OF NO RANK OR CONSEQUENCE.” AT FIRST THAT MADE ME ANGRY ENOUGH THAT IF MISTER EMPEROR’S SECRETARY HAD SUDDENLY APPEARED BEFORE ME, I’D HAVE BEEN HARD PRESSED NOT TO RIP OFF HIS SKIN IN RAGE BEFORE DEFECATING IN THE NEWLY OPENED HOLES, NOT TO MENTION IT’S A FUCKING STUPID WAY TO START OFF A LETTER THAT AMOUNTS TO, “WE THINK THIS GUY MIGHT BE THE PROPHESIZED SAVIOR OF MORROWIND,” BUT NOW THAT I’VE HAD A CHANCE TO CALM DOWN… THEY’RE RIGHT. I *AM* NOBODY. I’M THE MOST WORTHLESS PIECE OF FILTH TO HAVE CRAWLED OUT OF THE MUD OF THE IMPERIAL WATERFRONT, AND THAT’S WHERE ALL THE CITY’S SEWERS INTO THE RUMARE. I’M WORTHLESS.

AND THE EMPEROR OF TAMRIEL THINKS THAT I’M SOMEHOW INDORIL NEREVAR. 

SO. I GUESS RIGHT NOW MY CHOICES ARE TO GO INTO HIDING, OR FOLLOW COSADES’ NEXT SET OF ORDERS AND HEAD OFF TO THE NORTH OF THE ISLAND, TRACK DOWN THAT URSHILAKU TRIBE AND FIND OUT WHAT I’VE GOT TO DO TO PROVE MYSELF. AS NEREVARINE. 

GUESS I’D BETTER START PACKING. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Uriel, but he really is kind of bugshit at times. "Hey, person I just met, could you run the Amulet of Kings over to the head of my secret spy order? That's a good girl."
> 
> For some reason, I found reading the decoded message in-game, where the PCNAME got replaced by "Karkat Vantas", to be especially hilarious. "An individual of no rank or consequence," indeed!


	26. Reason-Defying Ability to Swim in Armor

27 LAST SEED 

FINDING THIS DUST-SMUDGE CAMP TURNED OUT TO BE A FAR MORE PAINFUL EXPERIENCE THAN I EVEN THOUGHT POSSIBLE EVEN IN MY MOST WRETCHED, BOWEL LOOSENING OF NIGHTMARES. THE TRANSPORT-BUGS SURE AS OBLIVION DON’T COME OUT HERE, SO I TOOK THEM AS FAR AS A PATHETIC LITTLE STAIN OF AN EGG-MINING VILLAGE CALLED MAAR GAN AND GOT DIRECTIONS FROM A LOCAL SCOUT. AMONG OTHER THINGS, SHE WARNED ME THAT I’D HAVE TO FUCKING SWIM PART OF THE WAY. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO SWIM WHEN I’VE GOT FUCKING ARMOR ON? AND SINCE I DON’T EXPECT THE SEA LIFE AROUND HERE TO BE ANY FRIENDLIER THAN IT WAS BACK HOME (APPARENTLY, NOT ONLY DO THEY HAVE MY FAMILIAR FRIENDS, THE SLAUGHTERFISH AND MUD CRABS, THEY ALSO HAVE THOSE HORRIBLE HUMAN-OCTUPUS-CRAB-THINGS KNOWN AS DREUGH), IT’S NOT LIKE GOING IN WITHOUT THE ARMOR WAS EXACTLY AN OPTION. I CHECKED IN AT THE LOCAL TEMPLE IN THE HOPES THAT MAYBE THEY HAD SOME FUCKING WALK-ON-WATER SCROLLS OR POTIONS OR WHATEVER, AND IT TURNED OUT THAT THEY HAD ONE, SO I GRABBED IT. IT DIDN’T SOUND LIKE I’D HAVE TO GO THAT FAR, ANYWAY. 

THE TEMPLE ALSO HAD A RANDOM DAEDRA STANDING AROUND, ONE OF THE MORE, YOU KNOW, MER LOOKING ONES, ONLY WITH DARKER SKIN AND HORNS AND SHIT? DREMORA, I THINK. AFTER ASKING AROUND AND CHECKING THE INSCRIPTIONS IN THE PLACE, IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S THERE BECAUSE VIVEC TRICKED HIM (OR HIS BUDDY?) AGES AGO, AND NOW HE HAS TO STAND AROUND TO GET MOCKED BY VISITING PILGRIMS AS PUNISHMENT. THAT’S AS MUCH AS I COULD GET OUT OF IT, ANYWAY. I’LL SAY THIS FOR VIVEC: HE COMES UP WITH PRETTY FUCKING GREAT PUNISHMENTS. I’M NO PILGRIM, BUT I MADE SURE TO FUCKING MOCK HIM WHILE I WAS THERE. 

THERE WAS ALSO SOME SORT OF SEER IN THERE, WHICH IS THE SORT OF THING I’D NORMALLY IGNORE, BUT SINCE IT SEEMS LIKE I’M HAVING TO PAY A LOT MORE ATTENTION TO FUCKING PROPHECIES AND WEIRD FUCKING FATE SHIT, I TOOK A MOMENT TO LISTEN TO WHAT THE DUNG-LICKER HE HAD TO SAY. I SCRIBBLED IT DOWN AS WELL AS I COULD, SO IT WAS SOMETHING CLOSE TO: “YOU WILL HAVE TO MAKE A CHOICE BETWEEN YOUR FLESH OR YOUR MIND, AND THERE IS SO MUCH KILLING – SO MUCH DEATH YET TO COME. SEEK OUT THE FALSE ONES, AND LET LIGHT WHERE IT HAS NOT BEEN FOR CENTURIES TO AWAKEN THE SLEEPERS AND DREAMERS.” SO THE USUAL VAGUE AND CONFUSING BULLSHIT THAT I’M ALREADY UP TO MY ASSHOLE IN. SPEAKING OF “SLEEPERS,” IF HE MEANS THE ASSHOLES BACK IN BALMORA WHO RUN AROUND GIBBERING ABOUT THE SIXTH HOUSE BEING RISEN, MAAR GAN SEEMS TO HAVE THEM, TOO. 

WHILE I WAS STILL IN TOWN, I MADE SURE TO PICK UP SOME OF THOSE KWARMA EGGS. KWARMA? WAIT. KWAMA. WHAT FUCKING EVER. I’M GOING TO NEED SOME SORT OF GIFTS FOR THE ASHLANDERS, AND THE WHOLE AREA SEEMS PRETTY EGG-CRAZY, SO I HOPED THAT WOULD WORK. 

THE POTION GOT ME MAYBE… A QUARTER OF THE WAY? MAYBE? AND THEN DROPPED ME RIGHT IN THE FREEZING SEA OF GHOSTS. THIS IS HOW I DISCOVERED THAT, AS IT TURNS OUT, I CAN SWIM IN ARMOR NOW! I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHERE I DEVELOPED THAT LITTLE REASON-DEFYING ABILITY, BUT MORONIC OR NOT, IT GOT ME WHERE I NEEDED TO GO! GETTING MY ARMOR DRIED AND OILED AGAIN IS GOING TO BE AN EXERCISE IN MIND-ROTTING TEDIOUSNESS, BUT FUCK, IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVEN’T ALREADY HAD TO STOMP AROUND IN A SWAMP IN THIS STUFF. LUCKILY, EVERYTHING ELSE WAS IN THE INVENTORY WHERE THE WATER COULDN’T GET IT, OR ELSE ALL MY NOTES WOULD BE RUINED. 

SO THIS IS THE AREA THEY CALL THE “ASHLANDS”. EVERYTHING OUT HERE IS DEAD. DEAD, OR DYING. I DON’T THINK I’VE RUN INTO ONE ANIMAL THAT WASN’T SHOWING SIGNS OF SOME SORT OF SICKNESS OR DISEASE. I DON’T KNOW HOW THE PEOPLE OUT HERE EAT. THERE ISN’T SHIT *TO* EAT. OKAY, WELL, THERE’S LITERAL SHIT TO EAT, GENERALLY FROM THE DISEASE-CREATURES, BUT THAT SEEMS TO BE PRETTY MUCH IT. EVERYTHING’S DYING, AND I HAVEN’T SEEN THE SUN OR THE MOONS OR THE STARS SINCE I GOT OUT HERE. JUST GRAY CLOUDS WHEN THERE’S NO ASH STORMS, AND CRACKED EARTH AND DYING PLANTS AND DISEASED ANIMALS. 

IT TURNED OUT THE EGGS WERE A GOOD IDEA. I MANAGED TO GET ONE OF THE TRIBESMEN TO SET ME UP IN A MEETING WITH CHIEF, SUL-MATUUL BY GIVING HIM A BUNCH OF EGGS. BUT THEIR CHIEF WON’T LET ME TALK TO THEIR WISEWOMAN UNTIL I GET MYSELF DECLARED A “CLANFRIEND.” TO DO THAT, I’VE GOT TO HEAD INTO THEIR BURIAL CAVES, FIGHT OFF ANY GUARDIAN SPIRITS I FIND, AND BRING BACK THE BOW OF SUL-MATUUL’S … GRANDFATHER? GREAT-GRANDFATHER? SOMETHING LIKE THAT. IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DIVINES-DAMNED SENSE TO ME. SO TO PROVE MYSELF THEIR FRIEND, I’VE GOT TO… KILL OFF THE GHOSTS OF THEIR ANCESTORS? THAT’S MY TEST? BECAUSE THAT SEEMS PRETTY FUCKED UP TO ME! CAN GHOSTS EVEN DOUBLE-DIE? OR WILL I JUST BE KNOCKING THEM UNCONSCIOUS AND THEY WAKE UP LATER, FINE AND DANDY? SO MAYBE I’M JUST PROVING MYSELF BY BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF THEIR ANCESTORS INSTEAD. FUCK, I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE IF I KNEW WHO MY ANCESTORS WERE, I’D WANT SOMEONE TO KICK THEIR ASSES FOR ME, TOO. ACTUALLY, I *DON’T* KNOW WHO MY ANCESTORS ARE, BUT I KNOW FOR SURE I’D LIKE TO KICK THEIR ASSES. IT DOES LOOK LIKE A PRETTY STRANGE WAY OF WORSHIPPING THEM, THOUGH, BUT SINCE IT ALREADY LOOKED LIKE THESE ASHLANDERS MAY BE KINKY FUCKS, MAYBE THEY JUST GET OFF ON IT. 

… 

OH GODS. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so many observations to make on this one...
> 
> This could have been another rant about horrible directions, but this is also the point where I, the player, became so frustrated with terrible directions that I just started using the map and directions available on the wiki, and fuck the in-character experience. There was only so much of that bull I was going to put up with. 
> 
> Karkat never did figure out that you're supposed to taunt the Daedra a specific number of times (he did not, for example, taunt him a second time) and then fight the thing, largely because he never got a hold of the in-game book about the different Temple pilgrimages, because he didn't care. I did, of course, have to throw in the reference to their description, since Dremora are the vaguely-Homestuck-Troll-looking of the Daedra. Their skin is a lot darker than Trolls, though. Or Dunmer, for that matter, since Dunmer are actually lighter gray than the majority of "dark elf" types you see in fantasy settings like this (while I have Karkat in a neutral gray, the fact that Dunmer range into green-grays and blue-grays makes me suspect that Tamriel's Jake English-equivalent is rather fond of Dunmer women). 
> 
> I considered either glossing over the swimming-in-armor thing or having him describe the measures he had to take to get both his armor and him where he needed to go, but then I realized I could just acknowledge it and have him rant about how very little sense it makes, so I did.
> 
> Meanwhile, he takes for granted having an inventory system. My rationale is this: Homestuck is a comic where everyone has game-type inventories without really questioning it. Morrowind has in-lore, in-text references to some aspects of how the game inventories function (the most obvious example is in the twenty-third [Lesson of Vivec](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:36_Lessons_of_Vivec,_Sermon_23), "The immobile warrior is never fatigued. He cuts sleep holes in the middle of a battle to regain his strength," referencing the time-freeze that happens when you access your inventory in order to, say, down a bunch of potions right in the middle of a fight). I'm combining two different things where game-mechanicy inventory systems are actually referenced by the characters/lore themselves, so... Karkat has an inventory system.
> 
> (By the way, if anyone was wondering why I never drew Karkat with a backpack while he was traveling, it wasn't just me being a lazy artist. It was me being a lazy artist _and_ making a conscious decision based on how his world works.)
> 
> Finally, there's the observation that, when you consider how incredibly lush the area around Imperial City is... the Ashlands have got to be really firking disturbing for Karkat.


	27. Seven Trials

27 LAST SEED

IT TURNS OUT THOSE BURIAL CAVES ARE FLOODED. IT’S GOOD THING I’M IRRATIONALLY GOOD AT SWIMMING IN ARMOR THESE DAYS! I FOUND THE CAVES AND EITHER BEAT UP OR KILLED A BUNCH OF THESE KWAMA-FUCKERS’ ANCESTOR SPIRITS TO PROVE I LIKE THE TRIBE, OR HOWEVER THAT WORKS, AND NOW I’VE BEEN “ADOPTED AS A CLANFRIEND” AND WAS ALLOWED TO SEE THE WISEWOMAN. SUL-MATUUL ALSO SAID HE’D BE HONORED IF I KEPT THE BOW, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THESE PEOPLE REWARD YOU WITH ENCHANTED WEAPONS FOR BEATING UP THEIR DEAD GRANDPARENTS. I *GUESS* IT’S A NICE, IF REALLY STRANGE, GESTURE, BUT I DON’T EVEN USE BOWS. IF I NEED TO HIT SOMETHING FROM A DISTANCE, I LOB A FUCKING FIREBALL AT IT. FUCK BOWS. IT SEEMS PRETTY SHITTY TO SELL THE THING, THOUGH, SO I’LL PROBABLY JUST ASK COSADES TO HANG ON TO IT FOR ME.

THE WISEWOMAN, NIBANI MAESA, SAYS I MATCH THE TWO MOST BASIC CONDITIONS OF THE PROPHECIES, BIRTHSIGN AND UNCERTAIN PARENTAGE, BUT THAT ISN’T ENOUGH TO PROVE ANYTHING. WELL, NO FUCKING KIDDING. GLAD I TREKKED ALL THE WAY OUT HERE TO THE WRETCHED, ASH-SPEWING ASSHOLE OF THE CONTINENT TO FIND *THAT* OUT. SHE ALSO SAID THAT THERE ARE A LOT OF LOST PROPHECIES BECAUSE THESE FUCKASSES DON’T WRITE ANYTHING DOWN (WELL, NO FUCKING KIDDING), AND SAID THAT IF SHE COULD GET HER HANDS ON THEM, SHE COULD FIGURE OUT MORE. SHE SUGGESTED THE DISSIDENT PRIESTS MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP, IF I CAN FUCKING FIND THEM. 

SHE DID TELL ME THE PROPHECIES SHE KNOWS, AND BECAUSE I *DO* WRITE SHIT DOWN, I’M RECORDING THEM HERE. WELL, ONE OF THEM. THE OTHER IS “THE STRANGER”, AND SINCE THAT’S THE ONE APPARENTLY EVERYONE KNOWS, I ALREADY HAVE THAT ONE IN THIS JOURNAL. THE OTHER ONE’S CALLED THE SEVEN VISIONS OF SEVEN TRIALS OF THE INCARNATE:

SEVEN TRIALS   
WHAT HE PUTS HIS HAND TO, THAT SHALL BE DONE   
WHAT IS LEFT UNDONE, THAT SHALL BE DONE

FIRST TRIAL   
ON A CERTAIN DAY TO UNCERTAIN PARENTS   
INCARNATE MOON AND STAR REBORN

SECOND TRIAL   
NEITHER BLIGHT NOR AGE CAN HARM HIM   
THE CURSE-OF-FLESH BEFORE HIM FLIES

THIRD TRIAL   
IN CAVERNS DARK AZURA’S EYE SEES   
AND MAKES TO SHINE THE MOON AND STAR

FOURTH TRIAL   
A STRANGER’S VOICE UNITES THE HOUSES   
THREE HALLS CALL HIM HORTATOR

FIFTH TRIAL   
A STRANGER’S HAND UNITES THE VELOTHI   
FOUR TRIBES CALL HIM NEREVARINE

SIXTH TRIAL   
HE HONORS BLOOD OF THE TRIBE UNMOURNED   
HE EATS THEIR SIN, AND IS REBORN

SEVENTH TRIAL   
HIS MERCY FREES THE CURSED FALSE GODS   
BINDS THE BROKEN, REDEEMS THE MAD

ONE DESTINY   
HE SPEAKS THE LAW FOR VELOTH’S PEOPLE   
HE SPEAKS FOR THEIR LAND, AND NAMES THEM GREAT

THIS… DOES NOT LOOK LIKE ME. AT ALL. WELL, BESIDES THE FIRST BIT, BUT HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO BORN “ON A CERTAIN DAY TO UNCERTAIN PARENTS”? I MANAGED IT WITHOUT EVEN FUCKING TRYING!

I’VE GOT A “DIVINE INTERVENTION” SCROLL (AKA, A FUCKING TELEPORT SCROLL WITH SOME PRESET DESTINATIONS AND A FANCY NAME TO IMPRESS STUPID PEOPLE WITH “RELIGION”), SO GETTING BACK SHOULD BE A LOT EASIER. I’LL PASS THIS SHIT ON TO COSADES AND SEE WHAT HE MAKES OF IT, BUT SINCE HE’S BEEN ORDERED TO TAKE THIS STUFF SERIOUSLY, I DON’T HAVE HIGH HOPES OF ANYTHING SANE COMING OUT OF IT.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat: eternally unsympathetic to pre-literate societies. 
> 
> I've always intended to split up the journals, and obviously, I'm getting close to the first split-point, so I've created a series for this. I've also got in mind a more original-story sequel of sorts that I may write if I can beat the vague ideas I have right now into something more closely resembling a proper plot, but that's rather iffy. More likely are smaller single-scene fics inspired by this, and one is already written and posted. Unlike this, it's strictly a Morrowind fic and not a Morrowind/Homestuck fic, although it involves Nerevar (it is worth noting that, as I see Nerevarine!Karkat, the biggest reason he's such an angry little ball of anger is because his soul remembers the betrayals and deaths that his conscious mind is not yet aware of, while the Nerevar of my fic would not yet have had these things on his soul. So, not nearly so angry). I'm also prodding at at least one, "Meanwhile, back in the Imperial City," single-scene fic that is... more likely to get done than the sequel, anyway.


	28. Stupid Hovering Paralysis Bullshit

28 LAST SEED

COSADES SAYS HE’LL GET IN TOUCH WITH MEHRA MILO, THAT PRIESTESS HE HAD ME TALKING TO UP IN VIVEC, AND SEE IF SHE CAN FIGURE A WAY TO TRACK DOWN THE DISSIDENT PRIESTS. APPARENTLY HE ACTUALLY HAS THE *OTHER* BLADES AROUND HERE DO SOMETHING FROM TIME TO TIME, BECAUSE FOR ONCE, *I’M* NOT THE ONE GOING. NO, INSTEAD, *I* GET TO GO DEAL WITH THE HEAD OF A FUCKING SIXTH HOUSE STRONGHOLD SOMEWHERE IN FORT BUCKMOTH’S PATROL AREA, SOME PRIEST OF UR NAMED DAGOTH GARES. PRIEST THIS, PRIEST THAT; I AM FUCKING DROWNING IN RELIGIOUS GUARDROPPINGS THESE DAYS, AND APPARENTLY, IT SMELLS LIKE DISEASED ASH. 

THE LEGION CHAMPION (NO, SERIOUSLY, THAT’S HER FUCKING TITLE) OF FORT BUCKMOTH TOLD ME THE NAME OF THE CAVE WHERE THEY FOUND GARES (ILUNIBI) AND GAVE ME DIRECTIONS TO A SHITSTAIN OF A VILLAGE NEARBY (GNAAR MOK). SHE ALSO TOLD ME THERE WAS ONLY ONE SURVIVOR FROM THE PATROL THAT FOUND THE FUCKING PLACE… AND THAT *HE’S* DYING OF CORPRUS.

I STOCKED UP ON EVERY FUCKING DISEASE RESISTANCE AND CURE DISEASE AND CURE BLIGHT – I KEEP HEARING THAT CORPRUS IS A FORM OF BLIGHT – POTION AND SCROLL THAT I COULD GET MY HANDS ON. I EVEN KNOW A DISEASE CURE SPELL OF MY OWN, BUT I’M NOT SURE IT’S POWERFUL ENOUGH. MOSTLY, I EVER LEARNED ENOUGH ABOUT HEALING MAGICS TO ENSURE I’M ONLY MOSTLY FUCKED AND NOT UTTERLY FUCKED IF A FIGHT GOES BADLY. LIKE A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A FUCKING WITH LUBE AND WITHOUT IT. 

AT FIRST THIS SEEMS LIKE A PRETTY INSANE UP MISSION TO BE SENDING ONE GUY ALONE ON, BUT THEN I STOPPED AND REALIZED… I’M ACTUALLY… PRETTY FUCKING POWERFUL. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN THAT HAPPENED, BUT IT DID. I’VE DEALT WITH POACHERS, BANDITS, ASSASSINS, SKELETONS, WRAITHS, AND MORE GOD DAMNED FUCKING CLIFF RACERS THAN I KNOW HOW TO FUCKING COUNT. I’VE BEEN OUTNUMBERED, AND STILL MANAGED, I’VE BEEN ATTACKED IN MY SLEEP, AND STILL MANAGED, AND… I’M NOT EVEN SURE HOW I GOT THIS FAR, THIS FAST, BUT HERE I AM. THIS DAGOTH GARES… HE’S JUST SOME OLD GUAR-FUCKER IN A CAVE, RIGHT? SHOULD BE LIKE A SLICE OF SWEETBREAD.

ON THE WAY OUT HERE I DISCOVERED SOMETHING MORONIC ABOUT ONE OF MY DWEMER SWORD, THE ONE WITH THE PARALYZING SPELL ON IT. IT TURNS OUT THAT WHEN IT HITS SOMETHING THAT’S FLYING, LIKE, SAY, A FUCKING CLIFF RACER, THAT THING JUST FREEZES. IN THE AIR. IT DOESN’T FLAP ITS WINGS, BUT IT DOESN’T FUCKING FALL, EITHER. IT JUST STAYS, LIKE, STUCK ABOVE GROUND. SERIOUSLY? I MEAN, I KNOW, I KNOW, IT’S FUCKING MAGIC, BUT IT’S ALSO FUCKING *STUPID* MAGIC! SEE, THIS IS WHY I STICK WITH DESTRUCTION AND RESTORATION. THEY’RE BOTH STRAIGHT FORWARD AND MAKE SENSE: ONE BLOWS SHIT UP, ONE HEALS SHIT (IN MY CASE, USUALLY MYSELF). NONE OF THIS STUPID HOVERING PARALYSIS BULLSHIT. 

ALSO, *WHY* ARE THERE EVEN CLIFF RACERS OUT HERE TO BEGIN WITH? THIS IS A FUCKING SWAMP! THERE ARE NO CLIFFS HERE! IT’S LIKE SOMEONE DELIBERATELY PUT THESE DIVINES-CURSED ANNOYANCES IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE PLACE ON THE ISLAND NO MATTER HOW LITTLE SENSE IT MAKES, JUST TO FUCK WITH ME! I SWEAR, THEY WILL ALL FUCKING DIE, ALL OF THEM, EVEN IF I HAVE TO SEE TO IT FOR EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM *PERSONALLY*. IT WILL BE THE GREATEST THING I’VE EVER ACCOMPLISHED, AND EVERY MAN, MER, AND BEAST IN MORROWIND WILL PRAISE ME. FUCK THIS MYSTICAL SHIT, I’M TAKING OUT THESE FUCKING CLIFF RACERS. 

BACK TO THE MISSION, THE PEOPLE IN GNAAR MOK ARE EVEN BIGGER ASSHOLES THAN MOST THE PEOPLE ON THIS ISLAND, BUT I THINK IT’S MOSTLY BECAUSE THEY DON’T KNOW THAT I DON’T GIVE A SHIT THAT THEY’RE OBVIOUSLY SMUGGLERS, AND IF I ACTUALLY *TELL* THEM I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THAT, THEN THEY’RE GOING TO KNOW THAT I CAN TELL THEY’RE FUCKING SMUGGLERS. I WAS FINALLY ABLE BRIBE A BOSMER MORON INTO GIVING ME DIRECTIONS, SO I’LL BE HEADING TO ILUMIBI NEXT. IT’S THROUGH FUCKING SWAMP, OF COURSE, BUT HAVEN’T I MENTIONED? SWAMPS ARE FUCKING DELIGHTFUL! IT’S A FUCKING STEP UP FROM DEATH-ASH-WIND-STORMS, ANYWAY. A REAL PLEASANT STROLL THROUGH A PARTICULARLY PUNGENT COUNTRYSIDE! I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkat gets to have a rare moment of realizing that somehow, he's become a badass (as opposed to simply making that claim in shout-form to someone else). There's no way this could backfire. 
> 
> As for his oath to see every cliff racer in Morrowind wiped out... well, it's a respawning creature. But it's likely he still managed to see it happen, even if he didn't do it himself, given that the [other prisoner on the boat he arrived in](http://uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Jiub) will get sainted for driving the cliff racers out of Morrowind by the time Oblivion takes place.
> 
> (Apparently that boat was a shipment of saints from the Imperial City, or something.)


	29. Cursed

29 LAST SEED

IF CORPUS IS A FORM OF BLIGHT, IT’S ONE THEY HAVEN’T FIGURED OUT HOW TO CURE YET, EVEN WITH MAGIC.

AND I’VE FUCKING GOT IT.

DAGOTH GARES HAD A LOT TO SAY, MOST OF IT ABOUT HOW DAGOTH UR IS SOMEHOW MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND, AND HOW THEY’D JUST *LOVE* TO SHOW ME HOW NICE THEY CAN BE TO ME, AND BY ME, I’M TALKING ABOUT THAT GENERAL NEREVAR ASSHOLE, BECAUSE MAYBE THE ASHLANDERS DON’T THINK I’M HIS REINCARNATION, AND MAYBE *I’M* MORE INCLINED TO AGREE WITH THE ASHLANDERS, BUT *DAGOTH UR* SEEMS TO THINK THAT’S WHO I AM. GARES GAVE ME A LOAD OF GUAR-DUNG ABOUT HOW HE’S THE MISUNDERSTOOD VICTIM IN ALL THIS AND HE REALLY JUST WANTS WHAT’S BEST FOR MORROWIND AND THAT THE TRIBUNAL FUCKERS ARE THE REAL TRAITORS AND… YOU KNOW WHAT? MAYBE HE’S RIGHT ABOUT THAT LAST BIT, BUT I CAN’T AGREE WITH HIS WHOLE PLAN OF RENOVATING THE ISLAND BY COVERING IT IN ASH AND DISEASE AND TURNING EVERYTHING IN IT INTO CORPUS MONSTERS AND ASH ZOMBIES. THERE’S NO LEVEL OF “MISUNDERSTANDING” THAT MAKES THAT SHIT ACCEPTABLE. 

WHEN I DIDN’T GO ALONG WITH HIM, HE ATTACKED ME, SO I FOLLOWED MY ORDERS AND KILLED THE BASTARD, AND NOW I’M CURSED. MORE CURSED THAN NORMAL. PRETTY MUCH AS CURSED AS IT GETS. I’M LITERALLY GOING TO DIE A MINDLESS MONSTER, UNLESS I END IT FIRST.

I SHOULD DO IT NOW, WHILE MY MIND’S STILL MINE, BUT I’M A FUCKING COWARD, AND I JUST… I CAN’T. I KEEP HOPING MAYBE COSADES HAS AN IDEA. 

I CAN ALREADY SEE THE GROWTHS STARTING. I’M HIDEOUS. AS IN, MORE SO THAN USUAL. I LOOK LIKE THE PUTRID, OOZING ASS-END OF A SYPHILITIC GUAR. MOST PEOPLE WHO SEE ME SEEM TO KNOW WHAT I’VE GOT. I THOUGHT THEY HATED ME BEFORE, BUT NOW… MOST OF THEM WON’T EVEN TALK TO ME, AND I CAN’T BLAME THEM. I WOULDN’T GO NEAR ANYONE WHO LOOKED LIKE ME. FUCK, I WOULDN’T SUBJECT OTHER LIVING CREATURES TO MY VOMIT-INDUCING PRESENCE IF IT WEREN’T THE ONLY WAY I COULD AT LEAST *TRY* TO GET HELP. I WAS SOMEHOW ABLE TO GET ONE OF THE BUG DRIVERS TO GET ME BACK TO BALMORA, BUT I’M SHOCKED THE GUARDS HAVEN’T CHASED ME OUT OF TOWN YET. IT’S PROBABLY ONLY A MATTER OF TIME.

I HOPE TO THE GODS COSADES HAS SOMETHING, BECAUSE IF HE DOESN’T… THAT’S IT. I’M OUT OF IDEAS. I ALREADY KNOW THE TEMPLE CAN’T HELP ME, THE IMPERIAL CULT CAN’T HELP ME, AND THE MAGES GUILD CAN’T HELP ME. I’VE ALREADY CHECKED. MY BEST OPTION WOULD BE TO FINALLY END MY PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A LIFE BEFORE I LOSE WHAT’S LEFT OF WHAT I LAUGHINGLY REFER TO AS MY MIND. AND I’M… I’M NOT EVEN SURE I CAN DO IT FOR MYSELF. I DON’T THINK I’M STRONG ENOUGH. 

MAYBE THE OTHER BLADES’LL DO IT FOR ME. THEY OWE ME THAT MUCH, AFTER I DID THIS FOR THEM, RIGHT? SO MUCH FOR THE FUCKING GRAND PROPHECY; LOOKS LIKE THIS LITTLE NEREVARINE’S BOUND FOR AN EARLY GRAVE. OR CREMATION. THEY PROBABLY WON’T WANT TO KEEP MY DISGUSTING, DISEASE-RIDDLED BODY AROUND. I WONDER… I WONDER IF ANYONE’LL BOTHER TO TELL THE FOLKS I KNEW BACK IN THE IMPERIAL CITY WHAT HAPPENED TO ME? NO. WHO AM I KIDDING? THEY’RE PROBABLY GLAD I’M GONE. 

AT LEAST IT’S ALMOST OVER. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH! Who would have expected THIS to happen?!?
> 
> >_>
> 
> Yeah, okay.
> 
> Anyway, Karkat's gray-scale color scheme combined with Morrowind's gray-scale color scheme (that 'cave' should be darker, but then it would blend too well with Karkat) combined with my absolute dislike for doing anything resembling a proper inking job continues to cause problems. On the up side, at least he's _supposed_ to look like shit here. 
> 
> Same old steel cuirass, same old bonemold pauldron, new Dwemer pauldron, so Karkat is wearing robot-bits. I also gained a real sweet ass set of gauntlets this cave, but Karkat is too busy staring at his disgusting fingers to model them.


	30. Best Friends Forever?

_Tucked into the journal where this entry begins is a loose page containing a[letter](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Message_from_Dagoth_Ur) addressed to Lord Indoril Nerevar by none other than Dagoth Ur himself._

30 LAST SEED 

HOLY FUCK! I GUESS SENDING ASH MONSTERS TO ATTACK SOMEONE IN HIS FUCKING SLEEP IS HOW DAGOTH UR SHOWS WHAT AN AWESOME FRIEND HE IS! I’VE HAD SOME PRETTY SHITTY SO-CALLED “FRIENDS” IN MY TIME, BUT HE’S REALLY OUT TO TAKE THE CAKE, BY WHICH I MEAN TURD. 

THAT, AND IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE EVER ACTUALLY *MET* THE ASSHOLE. 

NOT THAT I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ASLEEP, ANYWAY. THAT WAS ENTIRELY MY FUCK-UP. I DOZED OFF DURING THE BUG RIDE AND WOKE UP AS THE THING WAS SKITTERING UP TO THE BALMORA PLATFORM AND THE… WHATEVER THAT THING WAS ATTACKED RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN. IT SCARED THE BUG-DRIVER OUT OF HIS WITS, TOO. THAT THING WAS CREEPY AS FUCK. INSTEAD OF EYES, IT HAD ONE HUGE HOLE IN THE FRONT OF ITS HEAD. I COULD SEE ALL THE WAY THROUGH TO THE BACK OF ITS HEAD. OR SHELL, I GUESS, IT HARDLY EVEN QUALIFIES AS A HEAD, UNLESS YOU WANT TO CALL IT A HEAD-SHAPED SHELL. I KNOW THERE I’VE *CALLED* PEOPLE “EMPTY-HEADED” BEFORE, BUT I’VE NEVER SEEN A CASE AS *LITERAL* AS THIS ONE. 

AND WHAT SWEET DREAMS IT WOKE ME UP FROM! AND YES, I’LL ADMIT, I’VE BEEN DREAMING. I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS, “NO, I DIDN’T HAVE DREAMS, NOT ME!” BULLSHIT. THAT WAS STUPID OF ME. I WASN’T FOOLING ANYONE, AND PAST ME CERTAINLY ISN’T FOOLING CURRENT ME. YES, I’M HAVING NIGHTMARES, AND YES, I KNOW WHERE THEY’RE FROM, MOST OF THEM, ANYWAY, AND IT’S ALL JUST MORE BULLSHIT FROM DAGOTH UR. THIS LAST ONE WAS CLEARER THAN THE OTHERS. THE ASSHOLE IN THE MASK SHOUTED: “LORD NEREVAR INDORIL, HAI RESDAYNIA! LONG FORGOTTEN, FORGED ANEW! THREE BELIED YOU, THREE BETRAYED YOU! ONE YOU BETRAYED WAS THREE TIMES TRUE! LORD VORYN DAGOTH, DAGOTH UR, STEADFAST LIEGEMAN, FAITHFUL FRIEND, BIDS YOU COME AND CLIMB RED MOUNTAIN! BENEATH RED MOUNTAIN, ONCE AGAIN, BREAK YOUR BONDS, SHED CURSED SKIN, AND PURGE THE N’WAH FROM MORROWIND!” 

MOTHERFUCKER! HE’S THE ASSHOLE WHO GAVE ME THIS “CURSED SKIN!” IT’S A FUCKING EXTORTION SCHEME THROUGH MONSTER-CURSES! FUCK HIM, FUCK HIS PRIESTS, FUCK HIS ASH MONSTERS, AND FUCK HIS STUPID DREAMS! I MAY NOT HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT, BUT I’M GOING TO SPEND WHAT TIME I HAVE LEFT WRECKING THAT FUCKER’S SHIT UP! 

COSADES TELLS ME HE’S “VERY CONCERNED” THAT I HAVE CORPUS. REALLY? VERY CONCERNED? NO FUCKING SHIT! I’M VERY MOTHERFUCKING CONCERNED ABOUT THIS, TOO! IN FACT, I DON’T THINK IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE FOR A BEING ANYWHERE IN MUNDUS WHO COULD POSSIBLY BE MORE CONCERNED THAN I AM ABOUT THIS! I AM AT THE MAXIMUM POSSIBLE LEVEL OF CONCERN HERE! 

UNFORTUNATELY, MY OPTIONS ARE DEADLANDS LEVEL WRETCHED. IN FACT, THEY’RE SO HORRIBLE, MEHRUNES DAGON’S LITTLE OBLIVION VACATION-SPOT MIGHT COUNT AS A STEP UP. SUICIDE ISN’T ONE OF THEM, BECAUSE I NEED TO FIND SOME WAY TO MAKE LIFE AS HARD AS POSSIBLE FOR DAGOTH UR IN THE TIME I’VE GOT LEFT, BUT IF I WAIT TOO LONG, MY MIND WILL GO AND I’LL END UP SERVING HIM, ANYWAY. ON THE OTHER HAND, COSADES SAYS A WIZARD NAMED DIVAYTH FYR RUNS A CORPRUSARIUM TO STUDY AND CARE FOR CORPRUS VICTIMS. HE MIGHT KNOW SOMETHING. EXCEPT THAT THIS ASSHOLE HAS BEEN STUDYING THIS THING FOR AGES, AND COSADES HASN’T HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT THIS GUY ACTUALLY *FINDING* ANYTHING. IF THERE IS ANYTHING TO KNOW, HE’S THE ONE WHO WOULD KNOW IT, BUT IT’S A PRETTY FUCKING HUGE IF. MEANWHILE, IF I GO THERE AND THERE’S NO CURE, THEY PROBABLY WON’T LET ME LEAVE, AND IF I CAN’T LEAVE, I CAN’T FUCK UP DAGOTH UR’S PLANS ANY. BUT WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING? MY ONLY CHANCE AT SURVIVING MAY BARELY BE ANY CHANCE AT ALL, BUT IT’S ALL I’VE GOT RIGHT NOW. 

DIVAYTH FYR HANGS OUT IN A TOWER ON A SMALL ISLAND ON THE OTHER SIDE OF VVARDENFELL, BUT I’LL BE ABLE TO USE THE MAGE’S GUILD TELEPORTING SERVICE TO GET ME NEAR IT. THAT IS, IF THEY’LL STILL LET ME IN THE GUILD. CAIUS TOLD ME THE OLD WIZARD’S OBSESSED WITH DWEMER ARTIFACTS AND GAVE ME ONE TO PASS ON. IN FACT, HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO POINT OUT HOW OUTRAGEOUSLY EXPENSIVE THE THING IS, AND HOW MUCH I’M “WORTH IT,” AND HOW IT’S OKAY THAT I’M BREAKING IMPERIAL LAW BY GIVING DIVAYTH FYR THE THING BECAUSE HE’S A HOTSHOT IMPERIAL SPYMASTER AND HE’LL SMOOTH IT OVER. HE ALSO HANDED ME 1000 GOLD SEPTIMS “FOR EXPENSES,” AN AMOUNT OF MONEY THAT AT ONE TIME IN MY LIFE I WOULD HAVE CONSIDERED FUCKING OBSCENE, AND BY “ONE TIME IN MY LIFE,” I MEAN ABOUT HALF A MONTH AGO. BETWEEN WHAT HE SAID, THE WAY HE SAID IT, AND THE WAY HE LOOKED AT ME WHILE SAYING IT, I’VE GOT TO SAY… THIS IS A REALLY FUCKING STRANGE MOMENT FOR HIM TO BE EXPRESSING THIS KIND OF INTEREST IN ME. I MEAN, I GUESS... IT MUST SOMEHOW BE MY SPARKLING PERSONALITY, AS FARFETCHED AS THAT IDEA IS, BECAUSE WITH THESE GROWTHS ALL OVER ME, IT SURE AS FUCK CAN’T BE MY GOOD LOOKS. UNLESS HE’S INTO THAT SORT OF 

NO. 

NO, THAT’S IT. BRAIN, YOU ARE NOT GOING THERE, AND I SWEAR TO FUCKING SOUL OF EBONARM THAT I WILL RIP YOU OUT THROUGH MY EYE SOCKETS AND BEAT YOU AGAINST THE NEAREST ROCK IF YOU EVER GIVE ME A THOUGHT LIKE THAT AGAIN. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caius's dialogue at this point was kind of hilarious. Beside the whole, "Very concerned" bit (really? Concerned, huh?), there is the fact that much of the rest of it appears to be a combination of hitting on your character with some puffing up of himself (you know, of the sort one might do if one is trying to hit on someone). I even checked with a friend, "I... think Cosades is hitting on Karkat," and showed her the dialogue, and she agreed that it looked to be the case. So. 
> 
> Also: Dagoth Ur is a _terrible_ friend.


	31. Dead or Cured

31 LAST SEED

IN ABOUT FIVE MINUTES, I’M EITHER GOING TO BE DEAD OR CURED, SO I ASKED FYR FOR A MOMENT TO MAKE ONE LAST ENTRY. JUST IN CASE.

HE DOES HAVE A POTION THAT HE’S BEEN WORKING ON. THE PROBLEM IS HE SAYS THE FUCKING THING’S ALREADY BEEN TESTED A FEW TIMES, AND SO FAR IT JUST KEEPS KILLING THE TEST SUBJECTS. HE’S GOT NO REAL REASON TO THINK IT’LL WORK ANY BETTER ON ME, BUT HE’S WILLING TO LET ME GIVE IT A TRY BECAUSE HEY, IT’S NOT HIS LIFE ON THE LINE. HE DID MAKE ME DO SOMETHING FOR HIM FIRST, BECAUSE THAT’S THE WAY THESE ASSHOLES *ALWAYS* WORK, BUT AT LEAST IN THIS CASE I GET *WHY* HE DID IT. HE MADE ME FETCH A PAIR OF DWEMER BOOTS FROM HIS BUDDY IN THE CORPRUSARIUM, THE PLACE WHERE HE KEEPS ALL THE CORPRUS VICTIMS, BUT I THINK IT WAS MORE SO I COULD UNDERSTAND WHAT’S AT STAKE HERE. THIS WAY, I GOT TO HAVE A FIRST HAND LOOK AT HOW *I’LL* END UP IF I DON’T DRINK THE STUFF. 

AND FUCK IT, HE’S RIGHT. EVEN THE SLIMMEST CHANCE IS BETTER THAN ETERNITY LIKE THAT. AND YEAH, YOU READ THAT RIGHT, WE’RE TALKING FUCKING ETERNITY. THIS IS NOT “OH, KARKAT’S JUST FLIPPING OUT AGAIN AND GOING OFF ON WILDLY EXAGGERATING TANGENTS.” IT TURNS OUT CORPUS STOPS AGING AND MAKES A PERSON IMMUNE TO OTHER KINDS OF DISEASES WHILE IT DESTROYS THEIR MINDS AND TURNS THEIR BODIES INTO BLOATED, DISGUSTING, CLUMSY MASSES OF TUMORS. FUCK, APPARENTLY THEY DON’T EVEN NEED OUTSIDE FOOD ANYMORE BECAUSE THEY FUCKING. SUSTAIN THEMSELVES. BY EATING THEIR *BODY’S OWN GROWTHS.* 

EXCUSE ME WHILE I TAKE A MOMENT TO PROJECTILE VOMIT AT THE THOUGHT. 

THERE WAS ONE SUFFERER DOWN THERE WHO HAD MANAGED TO GET PART OF HIS MIND BACK, YAGRUM BAGARN, AN HONEST TO AZURA DWEMER. HE’S BEEN KEPT ALIVE, IN CONSTANT PAIN IN A FUCKING USELESS, INFECTIOUS BODY FOR… IT’S GOT TO BE OVER 3500 YEARS NOW? THAT’S AROUND HOW LONG THE REST OF THE DWEMER HAVE BEEN GONE. THIS ALSO MEANS THIS CORPRUS SICKNESS HAS BEEN AROUND FOR A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED, IT’S JUST GOTTEN A LOT MORE COMMON RECENTLY. AND IN ALL THIS TIME, WHEN WE’VE GOT MAGIC THAT CAN JUST WIPE AWAY ANY OTHER KIND OF ILLNESS, CURE POISON, BRING PEOPLE BACK TO PERFECT HEALTH FROM THE BRINK OF DEATH… HELL, THERE ARE EVEN TREATMENTS FOR VAMPIRISM AND WAYS TO REVERSE BEING A WEREWOLF! AND WITH ALL THIS, THE ONE DISEASE THAT NO ONE’S FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING TREAT IS THE ONE DISEASE I’VE GOT. I WOULD SAY "FUCK MY LIFE," BUT IT CAN'T REALLY GET MUCH MORE FUCKED AT THE MOMENT. 

THE WHOLE SITUATION OUT HERE IS PRETTY FUCKED UP. DIVAYTH LIVES OUT HERE WITH A BUNCH OF “DAUGHTERS” HE SOMEHOW GREW OUT IN A FLASK AND NAMED ALFE, BEYTE, DELTE, AND UUPSE. YEAH, REAL CLEVER, ASSHOLE. I’VE SAID IT BEFORE, BUT BEING GOOD WITH SPELLS DOESN’T MAKE WIZARDS ANY GOOD WITH WORDS. OF COURSE, HE ALSO REFERS TO THEM AS HIS “WIVES,” SO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING INTENTION OF ASKING TOO MANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIPS, BECAUSE I MOST ASSUREDLY DO NOT WANT TO KNOW. ANYWAY, IT’S HIM, HIS FREAKY BOTTLE-BABY-WIVES, AN ARGONIAN GUARD, AND A MASSIVE NUMBER OF CORPRUS VICTIMS. THESE ASSHOLES ALL HANG OUT HERE ON THEIR LITTLE ISLAND, AND DIVAYTH ACTUALLY *INVITES* THIEVES TO COME AND TRY TO RAID HIS PLACE. HE KEEPS SHITLOADS OF TREASURE LOCKED UP DOWN IN THE CORPRUSARIUM, AND THE ONLY RULE THEY HAVE IS THAT YOU CAN’T HURT ANY OF THE PATIENTS. IF YOU DO THAT, EVERYONE IN THE PLACE WILL COME DOWN ON YOU. OF COURSE, THE PATIENTS ARE ALLOWED TO ATTACK ANY INTRUDERS ALL THEY WANT, AND BELIEVE ME, THAT’S PRETTY MUCH ALL THESE POOR FUCKERS WANT TO DO WITH THEMSELVES. AND OF COURSE, IT ALL MEANS EXPOSING YOURSELF TO AN INCURABLE, INFECTIOUS DISEASE. BUT ANY MORON WHO’S GOOD WITH ALL THAT IS WELCOME TO RAID FOR TREASURE! AND THEY PROBABLY DESERVE WHAT THEY GET, TOO. IT’S A PRETTY FUCKING TWISTED WAY OF GETTING YOUR KICKS, BUT IT’S NOT LIKE THESE ASSHOLES DON’T WARN THE INTRUDERS ABOUT WHAT THEY’RE GETTING INTO. FUCK, THEY’RE DOWNRIGHT CHIPPER ABOUT IT.

FOR THE RECORD, I DIDN’T SCREW WITH ANY OF THE CHESTS DOWN THERE. I’VE NEVER BEEN MUCH GOOD WITH A LOCKPICK, AND EVEN IF I WAS, I HAD OTHER FUCKING PRIORITIES, LIKE GETTING THOSE BOOTS BACK TO DIVAYTH BEFORE I LOSE MY MIND AND END UP A PERMANENT RESIDENT OF THEIR HAPPY LITTLE HOUSE OF HORRORS. 

IT’S ALL DONE WITH NOW, THOUGH. DIVAYTH SAYS I’VE GOT TO DRINK THE POTION IN FRONT OF HIM SO HE CAN WATCH THE EFFECT. I MIGHT AS WELL; THIS WAY IF I DROP DEAD, HE CAN AT LEAST GET WORD BACK TO SOMEONE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO ME. MY MIND’S STILL MOSTLY MINE, BUT I’M STARTING TO FEEL… FEEL THIS THING. I CAN TELL I’M PRETTY FUCKED UP NOW, BECAUSE AT THIS POINT, I FEEL MORE… RESIGNED THEN ANGRY. THEN ANYTHING. RESIGNED AND TIRED, BUT I’M ALWAYS FUCKING TIRED. I DON’T KNOW. THIS LIFE I’VE HAD, IT WASN’T MUCH OF A LIFE, BUT IT WAS MINE, AND I DON’T WANT IT TO END, BUT IF I DON’T TAKE THIS STUFF… THEN IT’S NOT GOING TO BE MY LIFE MUCH LONGER, ANYWAY. 

THESE FUCKING GROWTHS ARE GETTING BAD ENOUGH THAT I’VE HAD TO REMOVE SOME OF MY ARMOR. SO I GUESS IT’S TIME TO FINISH THIS, DRINK THE SHIT, AND TAKE MY CHANCES.

I GUESS AT LEAST THIS WAY IF I DIE, IT’LL BE AS ME. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yagrum looks remarkably like the old X-Men villain Mojo, the poor bastard (Yagrum, I mean, not Mojo). Don't kill him, though: you'll doom your timeline!
> 
> (Morrowind actually informs you when you've created a doomed timeline and, rather delightfully, very nearly calls it that. Kill a character that the main quest considers essential, you get the message, "With this character's death, the thread of prophecy is severed. Restore a saved game to restore the weave of fate, or persist in the doomed world you have created.")
> 
> Divayth Fyr really is a remarkably screwed up character. The whole encouraging thieves to get beat up by his patients/become infected, the fact that he's apparently sleeping with four different female clones of himself... yeesh! And yet he seems to genuinely care about the Corprus victims (that group does not tolerate anyone messing with those guys), and despite the fact that he's old enough that he'd not only have been born a Chimer, but would have grown up back in the days when Chimer and Dwemer were constantly at war, his best buddy is the last remaining Dwemer. So he's got some bits of decency.
> 
> He's still really screwed up, though.


	32. Better

31 LAST SEED, CONTINUED

I’M NOT DEAD AND I’M NOT CURED.

I’M *BETTER*.

DIVAYTH TELLS ME THE POTION WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE A COMPLETE CURE. NICE OF THE ASSHOLE TO TELL ME *AFTER* THE FACT, BUT WHATEVER. IT WAS DESIGNED TO GET RID OF THE DISEASE’S NEGATIVE EFFECTS BUT LEAVE BEHIND THE “GOOD PARTS” OF THE DISEASE, LIKE IMMUNITY TO OTHER DISEASES AND… I GUESS I DON’T AGE ANYMORE? I STILL NEED TO EAT, BUT CONSIDERING HOW *THAT* LITTLE “BENEFIT” WORKED, I’M PRETTY FUCKING THANKFUL FOR THAT. I DID TELL THE FUCKASS THAT MAYBE IF HE HAD BEEN SPENDING ALL THIS TIME LOOKING FOR AN ACTUAL *CURE* INSTEAD OF THIS FANCY SHIT, HE’D HAVE FOUND SOMETHING THAT WORKED MORE RELIABLY THAN THIS, BUT THE DUNG-MUNCHER JUST SHRUGGED ME OFF. AS FAR AS HE’S CONCERNED, HE’S GOT HIS TREATMENT AND CAN’T WAIT TO START TRYING IT OUT AGAIN, EXCEPT THE MORON SEEMS TO HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT HE STILL DOESN’T KNOW WHY IT WORKED ON ME AND NOT ON ANYONE ELSE. I SWEAR, FULL-TIME MAGES HAVE GOT NO FUCKING SENSE AT ALL. THERE’S SOMETHING THAT JUST GOES WRONG IN THE HEAD WHEN PEOPLE START STUDYING MAGIC-FOR-MAGIC’S SAKE, INSTEAD OF PRACTICAL SHIT LIKE SETTING ASSHOLES ON FIRE. 

MY NEXT STEP IS TO GET BACK TO COSADES. BEFORE I LEFT, HE SAID HE HAD HEARD BACK FROM MILO ON THOSE LOST PROPHECIES, AND I’LL PROBABLY BE THE ONE WHO HAS TO FOLLOW UP ON THAT. 

I’VE COME TO A CONCLUSION ABOUT THIS NEREVARINE BULLSHIT: I DON’T EVEN FUCKING CARE IF IT’S TRUE OR NOT ANYMORE. I WILL DO WHAT I NEED TO DO TO POWER THROUGH THESE “TRIALS” AND CURSES AND WHATEVER THE FUCK ELSE I HAVE TO DEAL WITH TO TAKE DAGOTH UR DOWN, AND IF “FATE” AND “DESTINY” AREN’T ON MY SIDE, IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER ANYMORE BECAUSE MY *HATE* FOR THAT ASSHOLE IS, AND WHETHER THIS SHIT IS TRUE OR NOT, I WILL CONVINCE EVERY FUCKASS I NEED TO CONVINCE, AND I WILL MAKE *DAGOTH UR* BELIEVE, AND *THAT’S* MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE FUCKING *TRUTH*, ANYWAY. I WILL *MAKE* THIS MY TRUTH.

I HAVE FUCKING *TAMED* THE CANCER, IT IS PART OF ME AND IT NOW *SERVES* ME, AND NEXT I WILL EXCISE ITS MOTHERFUCKING SOURCE FROM THIS FUCKING ISLAND. MY RAGE WILL BE THE NEXT ERUPTION UP ON RED MOUNTAIN, AND YOU BETTER FUCKING BELIEVE IT IS GOING TO BURN A DAGOTH UR-SIZED HOLE IN THE FABRIC OF REALITY ITSELF, AND THERE’S NO TRUTH IN ALL THE PLANES PURER THAN THAT. 

* * *

_Researcher's note: The chest in which the journals were originally uncovered also contained a full set of the well-known["Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec".](http://uesp.net/wiki/Lore:The_36_Lessons_of_Vivec) While these were not used as journals in the way most of the other books in the chest were, they were still marked up quite liberally. They also do not include any dates, making it impossible to cross reference them with the journals in order to determine exactly at what point the lessons were examined. Frequently, phrases such as, "I will murder him time and again" from the thirteenth lesson or "though you come again and again" from the fifteenth are underlined or circled. Other words and phrases are also underlined or circled, often with no explanation or perhaps a single word or symbol, most often expressing the surprise, confusion, or general disbelief of the note-taker. Passages that cast the Hortator in a subservient role are often simply scribbled out or marked through, sometimes quite rigorously. Further, in each lesson, the words are numbered from the start of the lesson through a particular number, one that changes with each lesson, and the last numbered word in a lesson is circled. For example, in the first lesson, only the first word is numbered and then circled, while in the second lesson, the words are numbered through sixty-eight. The reasoning for this becomes clear once the twenty-ninth lesson is reached where, along each line, a word taken from one of the other lessons is written. It's apparent that the note-maker had occasionally miscounted before correcting himself, because there are occasionally two words written on a line with the first one crossed out, but the final message is still readable: "HE WAS NOT BORN A GOD HIS DESTINY DID NOT LEAD HIM TO THIS CRIME HE CHOSE THIS PATH OF HIS OWN FREE WILL HE STOLE THE GODHOOD AND MURDERED THE HORTATOR VIVEC WROTE THIS." Finally, the first letter in each paragraph (except the last) of the final lesson is circled, spelling out, "F O U L M U R D E R"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand a quick transition from "I'm a worthless coward" Karkat to Karkat-rage.
> 
> Let us all take a moment to appreciate the fact that at this point in game, Karkat is essentially made out of magic-cancer that just happens to be Dunmer-shaped. Karkles will probably be a lot less appreciative of the side-effects once he realizes the full implication of not aging anymore when he's a Dunmer of only twenty. At around 17/early 18, Barenziah was still passing herself off as a boy, though by later-18, she had _finally_ developed enough to make that harder. At 19, Barenziah wasn't expected to be fertile for another couple of years, so that her pregnancy had been a huge surprise. Looking at those things suggests that Karkat, at 20, was probably just shy of full adulthood, and might still have been growing.
> 
> Not anymore! :D
> 
> I had decided from the start I was going to break this up, and had always intended this entry to be the "break point" for the main quest because it has a "turning point" sort of feel (the expansions provide more obvious breaks). As for the final notes containing the lessons, Karkat hasn't really looked at them yet at this point in time, though he'll eventually start saying things that indicate that he's seen them. It just seemed fitting to throw that in at the break point. Think of it as a teaser.


End file.
